Mission Into Nightmare
by Apollo Racer
Summary: The third story (fourth if you include the crossover, True Q) in the set of adventures featuring Apollo Racer. The crew of the USS Highlander come face to face with the demons from the mind of the esteemed H. R. Giger. Not as large as my previous two, bu
1. Default Chapter

Mission into Nightmare: Chapter 1

MISSION INTO NIGHTMARE 

In an asteroid field floating through the depths of space, a Federation starship was entering its death throes. Explosions and hull breaches dotted the surface. A shuttlepod emerged from the vessel and headed toward open space. It hadn't even left the field when the starship fell dark, becoming nothing more than a floating tomb. 

The officer piloting the shuttlepod had a horrible look on his face. It was the pale, clammy, sweaty look of a man who knows that he's been condemned to death, yet can't do a thing about it. Racing away from any inhabited system in a shuttlecraft, he sat back in his seat. He moped his brow with a sleeve and decided he might as well get to work. He started entering a series of commands on the console before him. When he started having chest pains, he finished his work, and activated the log. 

"This is... this is Commander Jason Prentice of the starship _Gilgamesh_. By the time you get this log, it'll be... it'll be too late for me." He groaned as another wave of pain hit him. "But... but it won't be too late... for you. If it is at all possible... do NOT... I repeat, do NOT enter sector 5174. Something horrible has happened there." He grunted. "I don't have... much time left. If by chance you cannot avoid entering that sector... if you come upon my ship... nggg... don't hesitate..." his breathing became labored, "Don't hesitate to destroy it. Please heed my warning. If you board that ship, you'll only doom yourselves." He sat back abruptly, blinded by pain. "Oh God, it hurts!!" He managed to hit one last command on the console before losing consciousness. 

_CHAPTER 1_

Jim was never the friendliest of people. Ever since he got the job at the mine, he seemed to be in low spirits. It could be the planet... one of the most bizarre planetary bodies he had ever seen or set foot on. Somewhat of a cross between a Class-M and a Class-J planet, a solid crust covered most of the area for to move about on. The colony was situated on the largest of these "islands." But this crust floated on top of clouds of gas that churned and rolled, a thick bluish and olive green soup, and highly deceptive. Before the colony could even be set up, a science vessel had carefully mapped the area so there wouldn't be any mistake of where they could and couldn't go. He once overheard one of the crewmen from the ship comment that the islands were possibly the remnants of a moon that had somehow broken up, entered the gas planets atmosphere, and solidified into a patchwork surface. It only went down a couple hundred meters before the gases got so thick that the ground wouldn't go any further. Not so thick that someone couldn't fall through it, though. Jim had seen a worker step in the wrong place; he still couldn't get the man's screams out of his head, the poor soul kept falling and falling. The resident science geek said it had something to do with surface tension, how the ground is spread out over a large area, yet a person didn't cover that much area, so he could easily penetrate the cloud barrier. Yeah, that made Jim feel _real_ good. 

It was his shift. He only had about three or four left... if by the end of the month they were unable to find a sizable pocket of the gas to mine, the colony had to pack up and leave. Jim laughed when he heard that until the foreman, Chuck, had pointed out that the gas wasn't uniformly the same. Certain areas had just the right elements where, if mined and processed, made a prime warp plasma coolant. He was shocked to hear this, until Chuck assured him that in its natural state, the gas was harmless. Unless you happened to be falling through it, of course. Then it wasn't the gas that was harmful, but the fall. Nevertheless, for safety reasons, anyone venturing outside had to wear a filter mask. Jim was rather glad for it, since the mask partially muffled his grumbling and griping, something he would have been reprimanded for numerous times. 

"What's that? I can't hear you," said his partner. Ethan was always an optimist. You could tell it when he spoke. 

"Nuthin'," Jim mumbled. "If I wanted you to hear it, I would've said it louder." 

Ethan shrugged. "All the same, you're probably just cursing this planet again. You really should cheer up. Just think, either we find something soon, or we'll leave, and you'll never have to see this place again." 

"I'm hopin' for th' latter," Jim replied. 

Ethan chuckled, and they kept walking. Jim once asked Ethan why they just couldn't find what they were looking for using a ship's sensors. Ethan casually replied that while they were powerful, for some reason, they couldn't penetrate too deeply into the gas for accurate readings; they got better results from sensor packs they carried with them. They were backpack-shaped, and came with what looked like a tricorder, except it had a wand extending from the top of the handheld unit. Jim had no idea what the wand was for, but he wasn't an engineer. The units trilled constantly when they were in use, just like a tricorder. They were at the point where their minds blocked out the trilling. 

So it gave them quite a jolt when his tricorder started acting up. They both stopped in place. "Whoa! What's this?" Ethan said. He backtracked to where they first heard the sensors go off. "I think we found something." 

"Are you sure?" Chuck said, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

"I'm positive," Ethan answered, excited. They wasted no time in recording their position and racing back to the colony. "Just a few meters of ground, and then the largest deposit you could imagine." 

Chuck smiled. "Good job. Very well done, guys. The administrator will be glad to hear this." 

Jim had left for his quarters as soon as they'd confirmed their findings. He was _definitely_ not pleased with the outcome. 

Later, in the mess hall, there was laughter and good spirits echoing throughout the room. It was rumored that what they found would guarantee them not only a long-term stay there, but they also would make enough latinum for each person to be very well off. Everyone was in a good mood. Except one. 

"Hey Jim! Why the long face?" This came from Ethan's friend, Michael. Jim just gave him a sour look and turned back to his meal. 

"He's not too thrilled because now he thinks he's stuck on this rock." Ethan laughed when he said that. 

Michael joined him. "Cripes, Jim! This is our chance to make a _major_ contribution to the Federation, and all you care about is leaving. I'm not sure what to make of you." 

"I don't wanna be here anymore, all right!?" Jim snapped. 

"Okay, okay. Sheesh." They got up to dispose of their plates, trays, and dinnerware. "Why don't you just leave?" 

"It's not that simple. I don't wanna just up and quit. I wouldn't... it just wouldn't seem right, okay?" 

Michael shrugged. "Fine. Sounds like a personal problem to me." That drew another round of laughter. 

"All right. Knock it off," Jim growled. 

"Boy, Jim you really oughta lay off the caffeine. You're way too grouchy." More laughter. 

Something within Jim snapped. "I SAID knock it OFF!" He turned and shoved Michael. 

"Hey, watch it!" Michael said, shoving back. One thing led to another, and they were punching and shoving. Ethan and another friend tried to break it up, but Jim pushed them off. The fight moved into the adjoining chamber. This was where the gases and fluids needed to run the colony were pumped. Pipes of various sizes ran parallel to the floor at different heights. Some pipes curved up into the ceiling, while others curved downwards into the floor. Still others traveled to the far wall and disappeared into them. 

Jim and Michael kept at it. Michael shoved Jim over a waist-high length of pipe. As soon as he hit the floor and got up, he picked up a fire extinguisher. Michael immediately knew the danger, and before Jim could do anything with it, he closed the distance and grappled with the extinguisher. In the midst of the struggle, it went off. Jim was shoved backward by the recoil, while Michael was hit in the chest by a high-pressure stream of extinguishing agent. He slid across the floor and slammed headfirst into a large pipe heading into the floor. The extinguisher petered down to nothing; as Jim got up, people who had heard the commotion started crowding in. 

Ethan looked at his friend. Michael was more or less sitting against the pipe. His eyes were open, and his head hung at an odd angle. Ethan rushed over and checked for any signs of life. He then shouted to the crowd. "Someone get the doctor over here!!" Jim stood there, numb and entranced to what just happened. 


	2. Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter Two

Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter 2

_CHAPTER 2_

A meteor drifted lazily into a planetary system. A misshapen lump of rock and common metals, the meteor slowly passed the outermost planet, which was more like a comet, a dirty globe of frozen methane gas, compacted into a huge snowball. The stellar intruder's invasion into the system brought it under the influence of a gas planet in the middle of the system. The swirling clouds of the enormous planet were hardly affected as the rock endured a single orbit and was sent further towards the star in the center. However, before the meteor came anywhere close to the nuclear inferno, it was confronted by the system's innermost planet. The meteor starting falling toward this planet's surface, and was promptly smacked away by the rings protecting the globe. The meteor spun harmlessly out of the planets' orbital planes and on through that region of space. 

The _Sovereign_-class starship at this inner planet, orbiting just parallel to the rings, merely registered the meteor's impact with the rings as a cursory observation; otherwise, it went unnoticed. Past the starship, within the atmosphere of the planet, lavender clouds drifted along with the jet stream produced by the planet's rotation. Continents were clearly evident, covering about half the surface. If the clouds were a light purplish shade, the oceans could be described as a deep magenta. The clarity of the water is striking... even from orbit, without sensors, the ocean floor could be seen, at least in areas where it was shallow enough for the star's light to reach the oceans' floors. 

A shape separates from the clouds. It looks vaguely like a bird, though the clawed forearms underneath its wings would give more of an appearance to a gryphon than a normal bird. The creature opened its elongated, hooked beak, and a grovelly screech made its way past rows of small, sharp teeth. It swooped down towards one of the larger land masses, heading towards an impressively large mountain range. As it reached the highest mountain, its eyes noticed something shiny on its peak. Swinging in for a closer look, the "bird" glided on thermals, its large wings spread wide. As it approached the summit, it noticed a figure standing there. When the figure moved, the creature screeched and flew away. 

He watched the bird fly off, just as he had seen the meteor strike the ring and careen away. Apollo breathed deeply, taking in the cool crisp air. He thought of trying to recreate the scene before him when he returned to the ship, but artistry as never one of his strong points. No matter how vivid, how clear the image was in his mind, he could never quite duplicate it on canvas, or any other medium. He didn't feel too bad about that, though... his memory recall was sufficient enough for him to be satisfied with just keeping it in his head. Besides, he was sure one of his crew would have taken tricorder readings, so he could use those to construct a holodeck program. 

Apollo was normally a sobering presence. At just over two meters, his height alone was intimidating, without even considering that he had kept himself in peak physical condition, a sadly rare condition among Starfleet's admiralty. Add into that his eyes, bright enough to shine through the darkness, sharp enough to stab through to the soul, and you were met with a formidable figure. 

This wasn't a normal time, however. This severe specimen of a man was softened at the moment by the fact that he was smiling. Before his return to Starfleet, a smile was indeed a very rare thing to see on him. Since then, things had changed... not only had he been promoted to admiral upon his return, but he considered himself highly fortunate to have been reunited with some very important people from his past. 

First he came upon Montgomery Scott. Apollo knew him from the time Scotty served on the original starship _Enterprise_. The two had become fast friends, so it was a pleasant surprise to find his friend had survived into the 24th century. In fact, Scotty's bizarre story of how that came about rivaled Apollo's own tale. The former chief engineer of the _Enterprise_ was now Apollo's current chief engineer on his ship, the _Highlander_, currently orbiting the planet. 

The next person he certainly didn't expect to see alive was his wife, Samantha. He himself had seen his old ship, the _Valiant_, destroyed eighty years ago, with her and all other hands aboard. To find her here was no small shock... indeed, he had been just as surprised to discover he had been directly responsible for her return. He was adaptive... he recovered, and now she had resumed her place not only as his first officer, but also as his other half. She would argue that she was his better half... Apollo wasn't entirely sure that he'd disagree. 

But the most shocking reunion of all happened just one short year ago. Apollo had been receiving some disturbing psychic resonances. He couldn't for the life of him figure out where they were coming from, and the ship's sensors couldn't register them. So he had done the only thing he could possibly do. In a feat that had taken most of his strength, he teleported himself to the source of the disturbances. Imagine his surprise to find himself aboard the bridge of the lost starship _Voyager_, in the Delta Quadrant, undoubtedly his furthest teleportation. She was engaged in a heroic effort to return to the Alpha Quadrant. Starfleet had been informed of the ships survival just a few months before his journey. To this day, they were still trying to find a shortcut for the wayward ship to use on her voyage home. 

That wasn't what had caught his attention the most. What truly shocked him was the person sitting behind the helm of _Voyager_ at the time of his appearance: Allucia Banks... his own _sister_. She was even a Lieutenant, which meant she had been serving there for a while. They had an emotional reunion, and a little adventure with Q. It took some coercion to keep Q in line, a task made infinitely more difficult because his son happened to be a chip off the old block. But in the end, everything turned out for the better. The Continuum had toned down his abilities, taken away some of those he didn't particularly want to lose. But he could live without them, and they left him with the ones he used more often. 

He had returned to the _Highlander_, though not without giving the _Voyager_ crew a little "gift." While it may not have taken them to the Alpha Quadrant, it certainly should have boosted their morale enough to make make it seem that home was that much closer. And the information about a quantum slipstream drive, in one of the reports he brought back with him, was certainly encouraging enough to Starfleet; enough that they had their best scientists immediately looking into the option, not just for Captain Janeway, but for other Starfleet ships as well. 

Going through those thoughts again broadened the smile on Apollo's face. His reverie was cut short, though, when his combadge chirped. He reached up to tap it. "Racer here." 

"_Admiral, are you going to stay up there all by yourself, or would you care to come down and join us?_" Sam said, ensuring that Apollo missed none of the sarcasm in her voice. However, she continued her thought unspoken. _:Seriously, it would be nice if I could spend shore leave with my husband instead of having him brood high on a mountain top.:_

_:I was _not _brooding,:_ came his terse reply. _:I was merely reflecting on all the good fortune I've recently had in my life.:_

_:Well, couldn't you do your reflecting down here... with the rest of us...:_ her thoughts took on a more seductive flavor, _:at _my_ side?:_

_She certainly knows what to say and how to say it_, he thought to himself with a smile. "Okay. I'll be right down." 

"_Should we have the ship beam you down or should we send a shuttle?_" 

_She knows better than to ask that._ He grinned mischievously, figuring that she had to make the request out of respect for protocol. "No need for either." 

She picked up a trace of his thought. "_Apollo!! Don't you..._" 

"Racer out." He closed the connection before she could get another word in. He straightened, tugging on his tunic. Apollo took one last look around, at the majesty of the scenery. 

Then he jumped. 

It was a beautifully executed dive. Taking a short hop up, He seemed to defy gravity for a moment (a feat he would have no problem accomplishing), before jackknifing and plummeting through the clouds. He stayed close to the cliff face, but he more or less kept his body straight as an arrow, dropping at an incredible speed. 

Down at more or less sea level, a moderate group of people were enjoying themselves in the beautiful weather. Most of them were oblivious to the conversation that just went on. Some of them were relaxing in a lagoon-type lake, while others were frolicking along the shore, engaged in various types of recreation. Three people in the water were the only ones who were aware of what just took place. "Is he doing what I think he's doing?" This concern was voiced from the ship's Tactical officer, Circe Pa'arvalis. The Andorian looked completely startled. 

"He always did have a flair for the dramatic," said the chief engineer. Sam had thought that Montgomery Scott would have been the one of the last people to come down for shore leave, but considering the events that took place while Apollo was away on _Voyager_, it was not entirely unexpected. While their commanding officer was in the Delta Quadrant, they had been busy in the thick of the Dominion War. Of course, Apollo had returned in time to see it end... she felt he wouldn't have had it any other way. He had known even before going to Voyager that things were building to a head, and the Highlander certainly contributed her share in the final battle. At the least, he might have been disappointed if he had missed the action... at the most, Sam believed that if he hadn't sta in that center chair, they might not have made it through the conflict. As it was, they had plenty of close scrapes during the battle, quite literally in one case, as they had narrowly avoiding becoming victim to a Jem'Hadar kamikaze run. 

"I don't think I want to look," Sam said, though her gaze never left the sky. Of the three, she was the only one floating on a type of inflatable raft. Her two-piece swimsuit did much to match her eyes. Circe, not to have been outdone, was wearing something that could only marginally have been called swimwear. Dental floss was more appropriate. But it not only matched the color of the land around them, it also highlighted her blue skin. Or rather, her blue skin highlighted the swimsuit. 

Suddenly, they could hear a high pitched whistle in the air. Scotty thought it sounded like the shell of a phaser mortar. "Incoming," he said, without much excitement in his tone. 

At that point, Apollo burst through the clouds, heading straight toward them. Even knowing he was heading their way, the trio still looked shocked. At the last second, Apollo pulled sharply out of his dive. Circe and Scotty dunked underwater; Sam fell in, having flipped over on her raft. The water churned from the air disturbance, but the admiral himself avoiding getting wet. He looped and whirled through the air laughing. Others saw the spectacle, pointed, and laughed with Apollo. 

Sam surfaced, sputtering water from not being able to completely prepare for her dive. She didn't look too pleased. Apollo came back around and hovered three feet above the water, looking as though he were laying on his side, head propped on his arm. "Hi there. Miss me?" He said with a smile. 

"Why, of course we did, _dear_. This wouldn't have been a proper shore leave without you." Then she grinned, and Apollo caught the evil in the grin too late to save him. At a glance, Sam, Circe and Scotty all grabbed Apollo and pulled him into the water. Now it was their turn to laugh. 

He burst back up, coughing, before he joined his friends in laughter. "I guess I deserved that," he said, splashing his wife. They got into a major water fight before his badge chirped again. "Racer here," he said. Good thing combadges were waterproof. 

"Highlander_ here, sir. We just got orders from Starfleet._" 

"Understood. We'll start beaming aboard. Racer out." He deactivated the link. "Things start returning to normal already, eh?" The trio nodded their silent assent. Apollo touched his badge again. "Racer to _Highlander_. Begin beaming up the shore leave parties. I'll view our orders as soon as I'm aboard..." he looked at himself, "...and sufficiently dried off." 

About half an hour and a dry uniform later, the doors to the turbolift opened, and Apollo walked onto the bridge, followed closely by the rest of his command crew. Instead of heading for the ready room though, Apollo headed straight for his chair and sat down. "Patch those orders to my station, Commander." 

Commander Louis Browning complied, sending the communication to the small panel on the right-hand arm of the command chair. Apollo keyed in the codes to accept it, and sat in silence, perusing the orders. A small smile crept on his face, and Sam raised her eyebrow. "Admiral?" she inquired. 

He looked up. "I was right. The Federation is already returning to normal. We've been assigned on a milk run." Smiles spread across the bridge upon hearing that. Apollo inputted other commands into his chair. "Admiral's log, stardate 53427.4. The _Highlander_ has been assigned to go to the mining colony on..." His eyes widened a little at the name he read. Making sure it was no mistake, he read the name of the planet again and snickered. Now the whole bridge crew looked at him strangely. 

"Hehehe... the mining colony on the planet..." More snickering. 

Sam sidled up to him. She spoke in a low voice. "Whatever it is, it can't be _that_ funny." 

"Oh? Hehehehe... wanna bet?" 

She put her hands on her hips. "You have to finish the log, sir." She glowered at him. 

Apollo was physically attempting to keep from laughing now. "...the colony on... hehe... Slartifartbast..." 

Chuckles issued around the bridge. Sam smiled, and said, "Apollo, it's NOT that funny." 

His face was contorting with effort. "Oh yeah? Hehehe... Slartifartbast." 

"Apollo, stop it... Hehe." 

"Slartifartbast." 

"Hehehehe... cut it out..." 

"Hehehehe... Slartifartbast." 

That was it. He couldn't hold it back anymore, and started laughing, loud and hard. Sam quickly joined him. Soon the whole bridge crew was wrapped up in belly laughs and guffaws. Apollo wasn't helping much; every moment or so, he would repeat, "Slartifartbast," and start whole new round of laughter. He was practically falling out of his seat, and Sam was leaning on him for support. 

After about five minutes, the laughter died down. Several of them wiped tears from their faces. It still took Apollo more time to compose himself enough to realize that the log recorder had caught the entire thing. "Ummm... hehe... computer, scratch that attempt. Start new log entry." 

The computer chirped and signaled it was ready. He took a couple of deep breaths. 

_Admiral's log, stardate 53427.4:_

_The _Highlander _has been assigned to the mining colony on..._

He did some research; it was clear he couldn't say the name again and keep a straight face. 

..._on Gamma Taelon IX. One of the miners there has been convicted of murder. We are to 'escort' him to the nearest penal colony for rehabilitation. While this would not be my first choice as an example that after such a gruesome war, the Federation has returned to normal..._" He looked up at his crew. A couple of them looked almost ashamed to have laughed after hearing the full news. "_...it seems that is exactly what has happened._

He closed the log and sighed. He looked forward. "Helm, set course for... the Gamma Taelon system, warp four." He sat back, and when the Con officer looked back in confirmation of the course, Apollo nodded and said, "Engage." 

The _Highlander_ moved gracefully out of orbit and maneuvered around the outer planets before shooting into warp. 


	3. Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter Three

Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter 3

_CHAPTER 3_

Three days later, they were keeping a geosynchronus position over Slartifartbast. The colony's administrator watched as three figures coalesced into solidity in front of her. When they finished materializing, she walked forward, extending her hand. "Welcome. I'm Amanda Clemens, the mining colony's administrator here." 

Apollo smiled and shook her hand. "I'm Admiral Racer. This is my first officer, Captain Racer, and my Tactical Officer, Commander Pa'arvalis." 

Amanda glanced from Sam to Apollo in response to her name being the same as the admiral's, but didn't say anything. Sam smiled at her in return. "If you'll follow me," Amanda said, motioning them out of the transporter room. 

As they walked down a long corridor, Circe asked, "Madam Administrator, do you get this type of behavior very often?" 

She chuckled. "Please, call me Amanda. No, we don't get this too often. We've had a few accidental deaths since the station was first established, but actually, this is the first time we've had a murder." 

"At least, one you've known about." 

Apollo looked sternly at Circe. "Commander, I think these people have enough on their hands without having a Murder of the Week." He then looked to Amanda. "The surface here _is_ stable?" 

"Oh, quite stable," she replied. "It's just that at first, we didn't know the exact boundaries of the crust, and there would be the occasional misstep." She paused... Apollo could sense a brief wave of painful grief before it passed just as quickly. "We never really discovered if this planet has a solid core. Even our sensors don't go that far down, and a starship's sensors can't penetrate very far into this gaseous soup. There have been some rumors that the men we've lost haven't even stopped falling yet." 

Sam shivered... she could think of a lot better ways to die than to take a plunge into eternity, never to hit bottom. "How horrible." 

"They would eventually have to stop falling," Circe said. "They would reach the center of the planet's gravitational mass. If it's mostly gas, the core would most likely be in a liquid form." Sam looked at Circe, aghast at the nonchalance. 

Apollo put their rivalry on hold with a glare. "Could it be possible that this person could have somehow snapped? Maybe he saw one of his friends fall. Knowing the fate of that helpless individual, I'd probably be a little unnerved myself." 

Amanda stopped and looked hard at Apollo. "You know, that's exactly what happened. About four months ago, Jim's old partner fell off the edge of the crust. He hasn't been the same since then. Still, I would hardly allow him to use that as an excuse for murder." 

"Perhaps the gas has some properties that haven't been realized yet." She turned to Apollo. "Like when Starfleet discovered that the zenite gas they once got from Ardana was found to cause aggrassion in individuals who breathed it for an extended period of time." 

Circe smirked. "This from the Vulcan wannabe." She moved on, and as such missed the tongue Sam stuck out at her. Apollo shook his head, but said nothing about the action. 

They walked through a door into a room. The men standing guard in the security wing gave Apollo the impression that there was no Starfleet influence here at all. _In fact, they probably only use this area for complaints of petty theft... and probably not much of that, either._ And yet the cells still seemed to be in fairly good condition. A look at Circe appraising the room confirmed his suspicions. _Probably need a place for their people to sleep off a drinking binge._

They reached a cell near the end of the wing. A man sat in there alone. He was quiet, and he looked as though he regretted what he did, but he also looked disgruntled. "Jim, get up," Amanda said, "your ride is here." Jim stood and looked at the Starfleet people; from the start, he realized he'd better not give these people too much trouble. Amanda turned to face them. "Admiral, this is Jim Nash. Jim, this is Admiral Racer and his officers from the _Highlander._ They'll be taking you with them." Jim remained silent as one of the guards deactivated the forcefield, then he stepped carefully through. As he passed the administrator, she snidely said, "Why so glum? You were always complaining about wanting to get off of this rock. Now's your chance." He glared at her, but remained silent. 

Circe took Jim firmly by the arm. "Let's go." 

"Commander, the captain and I will be staying a short while. Think you can handle taking him up to the ship by yourself?" At a glare from her, he smirked, then she huffed and took Jim out the door. 

Amanda gestured with her head. "C'mon. We may not have the finest facilities, but we managed to get our replicators to make a mean cup of coffee." 

Apollo perked up. "Raktajino?" 

Amanda smiled. "You're a man after my own heart." 

Sam smirked. "As though he'd drink anything else." 

~ * ~ 

When they were ready to beam back up, Apollo left orders that as soon as they were aboard, Xanax was to take the ship to warp 4 again, on a course for the Aldridge penal colony on Mylanta IV (this elicited another laughing fit from Apollo, though this time, the crew had no clue as to why). Thus, they were well on their way by the time Apollo reached the bridge. He was about to sit down when Circe said, "Admiral, I'm picking up an automated distress signal from the log buoy of a Federation shuttlecraft, bearing 127 mark 38." 

Apollo remained standing and walked around to the Tactical station. He looked over Circe's shoulder at the readings. "Odd. A shuttlecraft out this far?" 

"Actually, this is just the log buoy of a shuttle. It's unknown how long it's been drifting." 

"Ah, aha. Nevertheless... Mr. Xanax, intercept course, maximum warp. It looks as though Mr. Nash will have to wait a little bit for his vacation." He turned back to the readings. "Commander, how long before we reach the buoy's position?" 

Circe punched in some calculations. "At maximum warp, we will reach the log buoy in 4.7 hours." 

He nodded. "Can you trace the buoy's trajectory while we're at it?" 

She gave him a look that said _Are you joking?_ "It's not impossible, but it should keep me busy until we reach it." 

He nodded again. "Very good. I'll be in my Ready Room." He strode off to the side of the bridge and disappeared behind the doors. 

After about an hour, Sam decided to visit Apollo in the Ready Room. Upon entering, she stopped shortly after the doors closed and smiled. Apollo was sitting in his chair, legs propped up on the desk. His head was knocked back, his mouth was open, and he was snoring. With an impish look, she sidled slowly and silently up to the other side of the desk. Getting as close as she dared, she cleared her throat. Loudly. 

The effect was exactly what she desired. Apollo snorted, flailed a bit, and promptly fell backward out of his chair. "What? Huh?" 

Sam giggled. "Honey, if you were so tired, why didn't you just go to our quarters?" 

He grimaced. "Oh, ya, like _that_ would look good. 'You have the conn. I'm going to go take a nap.'" She laughed lightly. He picked himself up off the floor and sat back down in the chair. "Well, what do you expect? How would it look for someone like me to be needing sleep?!" 

Sam shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Oh, heaven _forbid_ we should ever think that the mighty Admiral Racer would be hampered by the trivial needs of us lowly humans such as sleep. I suppose you don't want us to see you eat, either?" She propped her head on his desk with an arm and raised an eyebrow at him. 

"I don't recall saying 'hampered.'" 

"Whatever," she said, smiling. "Anyway, I just came in to let you know that Circe tracked the buoy back to its origin. It didn't travel very far... in an hour after we reach the buoy, we can reach the shuttle's last known location." 

"If the shuttle was at warp, I hardly think it'll be in that area." 

"If the shuttle was capable of warp, I would hardly think her pilot would have dropped the log buoy." 

Apollo thought for a moment. "Good point. Is there anything else." 

She thought for a moment. "Nnnnno, nothing I can think of." 

"Good. In that case, I'm going back to sleep. Wake me just before we reach the buoy." 

"Okay." She stood, then stopped, smiling coyly. "You know, now that I think of it, you looked awfully comfortable sleeping." She yawned. "Maybe some shuteye is what I could use, too." 

Apollo got up and moved to the couch. "You know, you're more than welcome to join me." He sat down on one end of the couch. 

She sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Thanks, don't mind if I do." He gently stroked her hair until her deep breathing told him she was asleep. In a couple of minutes, he joined her in slumber. 

~ * ~ 

They were awakened by the intercom chime. "_Bridge to Admiral Racer_." 

Sam, eyes only half opened, placed a hand on Apollo's shoulder for leverage and moved off him. She watched in a daze as he got up and went to the com on his desk. "Racer here. Go ahead." 

"_We've reached the coordinates of the buoy_." 

He nodded, though Circe couldn't see him. "Very well. Beam the buoy into Cargo Bay 1 and head for the shuttle's last known coordinates. If it's not there when we get there, we'll have to do a little more tracking." 

"_Understood. Bridge out._" 

He closed the connection and sighed. Gesturing to the door, he said, "Shall we?" 

She held her hands out, a silent request to be helped up. He went over and took her hands, but she pulled him down into a kiss. Suddenly Apollo wasn't all that anxious to leave. After a couple of moments, though, he forced himself to stand. "As much as I'd like to continue that, we have work to do." She nodded and groaned, but held her hands out again. This time, she allowed him to pull her up. Straightening their respective tunics, they walked out of the Ready Room. Moving through the bridge, he told Circe, "We'll be in the cargo bay inspecting the log buoy. Keep us informed of any changes." They walked into the turbolift. 

After the doors closed, she pulled him into another embrace. Between kisses, he said, "Now Captain, we're still on duty. Suppose someone decides to get onto this turbolift." 

She looked up into his eyes. "Can't you use your fancy schmancy senses to tell if that would happen." 

"Uh uh. You know they don't work that way. They only go off if I'm in danger." He gazed longingly at her. "We have tonight, you know." 

She made a show of thinking about it. "Mmmm... I don't think I can restrict myself to nights." She smiled, giving him shivers. 

He felt the car slow down, and straightened. She took his cue; sure enough, the doors opened, and a crewman stepped in. "Sir. Ma'am," he said, tilting his head at them in respect. They nodded back. The rest of the ride down, she silently flirted with Apollo. The crewman started feeling uncomfortable, but he didn't know why. He decided to risk turning to look at his superior officers, but they only gave him friendly smiles. 

When they finally reached the cargo bay, Scotty was already going over the buoy with a tricorder. "Ah! Admiral. Captain. Come take a look at this." 

They joined Scotty over by the buoy. Immediately Apollo could tell something about the buoy. "This was in an explosion. There's an awful lot of carbon scoring." 

"Do you think the shuttle was destroyed?" Sam asked. 

"I dinna know, lass," Scotty replied. "There's certainly not enough evidence to tell here. We'll have t' pull the logs t' see what kinda mess the shuttle was into." 

Apollo nodded. "We're heading for the shuttle's last known position now. If there _was_ an explosion, and the shuttle was involved, there's a good chance she'll be nearby." 

"Either that, or we'll find a nice little cloud of debris," Sam added. 

"Aye, that could be true. Hmmm..." Scotty looked intently at the readings. "Accordin' t' this, the shuttle came from the _USS Gilgamesh_." 

Apollo raised an eyebrow. "_Gilgamesh_? That's a..." he racked his memory for a second, "...a _Steamrunner-_class vessel, isn't it?" 

"Aye. That, it is. I wonder what it's doing out here." 

Sam shrugged. "With the war over, it could be any number of things." 

Apollo nodded. "Even when the war was on, it could have been any number of things. We're out near one of the areas where the Dominion had a foothold in the Alpha Quadrant. If memory serves, they had an outpost nearby." 

Scotty's face brightened. "Ah! I've got it! The tricorder's found the logs. It should be a matter of time now. All I have t' do is download the logs and decrypt them, and we'll have our answers." 

"Hmmm..." Apollo was looking at some discoloration on the buoy's hull. He produced a tricorder... from where, Sam had no idea. She knew he didn't enter the cargo bay with one, and she didn't see any lying around. He seemed to start doing things like that after he visited the Delta Quadrant, but he never explained how he managed to do it. While Scotty pulled the logs, Apollo started analyzing the hull. "This is odd." 

Sam walked around to where he was standing. He was looking at an oddly shaped hole in the hull plating. "This looks as though it's been eaten away." She reached out to point at it. She never intended to touch it, but Apollo grabbed her wrist in any case. 

"Careful! The tricorder says it's still pretty corrosive." As if in response, some of the metal hissed. Apollo stepped back and pulled out his lightsaber. Sam didn't recall him having that with him, either. With a snap-hiss, he ignited the blade. The saber hummed as he moved it, ionizing the air particles around it. With a slow, almost surgical precision, he barely touched the tip of the blade to the metal around the hole, and cut around it. When he finished the cut the plate didn't fall... clearly, she thought, he was holding up the piece of hull with his mind. 

Turning off his saber and clipping it to his belt, he snapped and gestured to the side, without taking his eyes off the plating. Sam walked to a nearby compartment and opened it, pulling out a container made especially to handle corrosive substances. He carefully lowered the plating into the container, and she closed the lid. "Take that to the science lab for analysis," he said. 

"Aye, sir," she replied, and immediately headed out the door. Apollo continued to make scans of the buoy. After about half an hour, Scotty closed his own instrument. "Well, that's it. I'm going t' bring this up to the bridge so Commander Pa'arvalis can take a look at the logs." 

"All right. I'm about finished here. I'll be up there shortly." Scotty nodded, grinned and left the cargo bay. 

Not long after he did, Apollo found another small spot on the hull that had been partially eaten away. But instead of a hole, there was a pit, filled with a tiny amount of what registered as organic matter, but upon attempting to identify it further, the tricorder was baffled. He reached out, and almost touched it, just as Sam had done earlier. Like the hole Sam took with her, though, this too would be highly corrosive. As an experiment, he lightly touched it anyway, and was shocked when his skin started burning instantly. He quickly pulled his hand away and looked at his finger. The very tip was already eaten through, with blue blood welling up. He produced a cloth and wiped the finger clean. The burning stopped, and within a few minutes, the finger would look as though it had never been touched. 

But that didn't disturb Apollo as much as the fact that when he touched the spot, the senses Sam wanted to go off in the turbolift suddenly flared to life. He didn't know why, but he was getting a _very_ bad feeling about this. He slowly stood and backed out of the cargo bay, never taking his eyes off the log buoy. 


	4. Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter Four

Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter 4

_CHAPTER 4_

There weren't too many science labs built into a _Sovereign_-class vessel, the reason being that while the primary mission of _all_ Starfleet ships is that of exploration, the _Sovereign_-class ship was developed in a time of war, for wartime purposes. It sacrificed room that would have been used for families and laboratories, during the days of the _Galaxy_-class ships, for streamlining, weaponry, and improved defensive capabilities. Still, the ships come equipped with all the amenities necessary to carry out Starfleet's mission goals. The _Highlander_ was no exception. It only had one science lab; but it only needed one. It was about twice the size of a standard lab, to compensate for the lesser number. Apollo walked in and took a quick look around. 

Taking up the entire forward end of the lab was an impressive astrometric station. Apollo recognized it as something similar to the room Seven of Nine had worked in on _Voyager_. Apparently, Starfleet had been putting her notes to good use since the first time they contacted them. 

The wall on the port side was devoted to the organic sciences, such as horticulture. The starboard side of the lab, closer to the door, covered the more technical aspects. Sam was on the left side, studying the piece of hull plating, which was suspended in a stasis field. Dr. Kellara was looking over her shoulder. It made sense, considering this was where Kellara spent time when there was no emergency in Sickbay to attend to. Organic sciences also covered medical science, so this was where she did most of her research. 

On the right side of the room, Scotty and Circe were busy poring through the logs of the shuttle. Scotty looked up when he saw Apollo walk into the room. "We have our work cut out for us, Admiral. Whatever explosion this buoy was caught in, it damaged some of the logs. We have to carefully extract them." 

Apollo nodded. "Do what you can, Scotty." He silently wished he had Seven here now... she probably would have made short work of the logs. He moved over to where the doctor and his first officer sat... that is, where the first officer sat and the doctor stood. Being a centaur, there weren't too many places she could sit down. "Any luck here?" he asked. 

"This is truly amazing," Kellara said. "I've never seen a substance this acidic before." She showed Apollo the container in which the hull plate was brought to the lab. There were signs of slight scoring and pitting in the bottom of the container... a container which was supposedly impervious to corrosion. 

"What the hell could have caused it," he said quietly. He looked at his finger, which had by now fully healed. 

Kellara shook her head. "We have no idea." 

Sam spoke up. "We _do_ know it's organic, though." 

Kellara pointed something out on the screen. "Look at this!" 

Apollo viewed the screen. On it was an image of the acid, magnified several hundred times. "They almost look like cells. But of what?" 

"See how this one cell is attacking others? Indeed, attacking molecules of the hull metal. I was baffled until I realized that it's the same properties witnessed by white corpuscles attacking and destroying foreign particles." 

He looked at Kellara, a little shocked. "Are you saying that's _blood_?!" 

"I'm saying that's what it could very likely be. Without knowing where it came from... or _who_ it came from... I can't make any conclusions." 

Apollo stared at the screen, watching the green substance devour the hull metal. He was distracted when Scotty said, "Admiral. I think we've managed to get some of the logs straightened out." 

He quickly strode over to Scotty. "Let's see it." 

Scotty looked a bit sheepish. "Actually, sir, we only managed to get audio. I'm sorry we couldn'a get more." 

Circe snorted. "Mr. Scott is being modest. I doubt I could have gotten the same results without his help." 

"Yes, he always did like to downplay his importance," the admiral said under his breath. "Can we hear the logs." 

"Right away." Scotty fiddled with some controls. "It would seem as though the shuttle only made one log entry." 

At first static could only be heard. Then, as Circe cleaned it up a bit, they got a clear entry. ""_This is... this Commander Jason Prentice of the starship _Gilgamesh_. By the time you get this log, it'll be... it'll be too late for me." _A groan and heavy breathing could be heard_. "But... but it won't be too late... for you. If it is at all possible... do NOT... I repeat, do NOT enter sector 5174. Something horrible has happened there." _A grunt_. "I don't have... much time left. If by chance you cannot avoid entering that sector... if you come upon my ship... nggg... don't hesitate..." _his breathing became labored._ "Don't hesitate to destroy it. Please heed my warning. If you board that ship, you'll only doom yourselves......... oh God, it hurts!!!!_" 

The sound went dead. A shake of Scotty's head told Apollo that was the end of the log. He found was was leaning over Scotty's and Circe's shoulders to listen intently to the message. Now he straightened, realizing that Sam and Kellara had gathered around him so they could also hear the message. The room remained silent until the intercom chime startled them all. "_Bridge to Admiral Racer._" 

"Go ahead," he replied. 

"_Sir, we found the shuttle. We should reach it in about fifteen minutes._" 

"We'll be right there. Racer out." As one, they all headed for the bridge. When they reached it, each took their corresponding stations, relieving the officers there. Scotty headed for the engineering station behind Tactical, while Kellara stayed close to the door. 

"Status," Apollo ordered. 

Xanax swiveled in his seat. "We found the remains of a shuttlecraft on the trajectory taken by the log buoy." 

Circe looked at Sam. "Looks like you were right about the shuttle not going very far." 

Apollo nodded. "Prepare to take us out of warp," he said. "Come alongside the shuttle as soon as we reach it." 

The _Highlander_ glided out of warp speed a few hundred thousand kilometers away from the shuttle. As it sidled up and matched the derelict's drift speed, Xanax brought it up on the screen. Apollo's jaw dropped open. "What the hell...?" 

They were looking at half of a shuttle. The front half looked beat up; the rear was gone. Floating close to it were bits of debris. Apollo looked to Circe for analysis. She studied the sensors. "The shuttle appears to have initiated a self-destruct command. However, due to prior damage, the destruction was incomplete." 

He didn't dare ask for life signs, but he did ask, "Any sign of organic remains?" 

She raised an eyebrow. "As a matter of fact, there _is_ one body on board, human." 

"Have it beamed to Sickbay," he said. 

"I'll be down there in a moment," Kellara said, getting into the turbolift. 

Sam slowly shook her head. "I wonder why he felt so threatened that he had to destroy his shuttle?" 

"More importantly," Circe replied, "is there a bigger threat since his shuttle wasn't destroyed as he planned? Shall I have the wreckage beamed into the cargo bay with the log buoy?" 

Apollo was about to say yes, but something stopped him. Through the bond, Sam felt his warning senses flare. "Admiral?" she asked. 

"No," he answered. 

"No?" Scotty asked. "But sir, it may give us a clue as to why he wanted to destroy himself." 

They silently waited for him to either confirm or change his order. "I have a _very_ bad feeling about this. If Commander Prentice had a reason for destroying his vessel, then we'd better honor his wishes. Xanax, back us off about forty thousand kilometers." He used the commlink on his chair. "Bridge to Sickbay. Doctor, do you have the commander's remains?" 

"_I do, Admiral._" 

"Good. Racer out. Commander Pa'arvalis, lock phasers on the shuttle." 

"Admiral, are you sure of this?" Sam asked. The look on his face gave her a reply. It also made her shiver. 

"Fire." 

An orange shaft of energy leapt from the _Highlander_. It struck what was left of the shuttle and vaporized it. The crew stood by for further instructions. Apollo looked to each one, studying their faces, taking in their individual reactions. Finally, he said to Scotty, "You wanted to find out more, we'll find out more." He sat down. "Mr. Xanax, set a course for sector 5174, warp five and engage. Commander Pa'arvalis, contact Starfleet and advise them of our current status." He sat back and took deep breaths. Something told him that one way or another, he wasn't going to like what they found there. 

When the doors to Sickbay opened, Apollo expected to find it empty. He was surprised to find it wasn't. A crewman was sitting on a biobed, while a nurse was treating him. Apollo recognized him. "Good evening, Lieutenant Bruebaker. What happened to you?" 

Bruebaker held a hand to his mustard-clad abdomen. "Lieutenant Colwyn, sir," he said, a little sheepish. 

"Is she still making that four-alarm chili?" 

Bruebaker grinned broadly. "Yes, _sir_." 

Apollo laughed. "I thought I told her to go easy on that stuff." 

"Well, sir, she said it just doesn't taste the same then. I tend to agree with her." 

The admiral chuckled. "You'll get no argument from me." 

It was another influence from the Delta Quadrant. As soon as the reports from _Voyager's_ EMH, relating their experiences, became known, captains from several different starships encouraged their more culinarily-gifted officers to convert a portion of their lounge into a mess hall. It was inevitable that starships would arrange cook-offs. The _Highlander_ participated in the last one, about five months ago, at Starbase 327. Lieutenant Colwyn beat the other starships hands down with her surprisingly good, and remarkably hot, chili. It wasn't a coincidence that, for the next few days, several crew members from several starships and the starbase reported to their Sickbays with a moderate case of heartburn. In each case, they said it was worth it, though. Apollo smiled at that memory. He himself had partaken of that glorious concoction. If he remembered correctly, he told her it was so good, and so hot, it would "make a Klingon's eyes water." 

He found Dr. Kellara back in her office, no doubt poring over her autopsy report. To accommodate her, the normal CMO's desk was replaced by a table about stomach-high, to allow her more comfort. Apollo leaned against this table. "Well, Doctor, what have you found?" 

"See for yourself." She motioned him around, and displayed an image of the corpse. 

He immediately wished he hadn't been thinking of chili. "Ewwww..." 

"Wait, it gets better," she said. "This man didn't die from the explosion." 

"No, wait. Let me guess. The man died from apoxia." It was a cop-out answer, since anyone even basically familiar with medicine knows that death is ultimately caused by a lack of oxygen to the internal organs. 

She scowled and telegraphed a ploy to step on his foot, which he, of course, deftly avoided. "Very funny. I meant that he was dead before his shuttle blew." 

"No doubt from the very large hole in his chest." 

"Very good, Sherlock," she replied sarcastically. "We might make a medical examiner out of you yet. But here's something you don't know... the hole was made from the inside." 

"_What?!?_" he exclaimed. "Did decompression do that?" 

"I'm not sure. I wouldn't think so... he would have been alive then when the explosion occurred." 

"Maybe the shuttle was already exposed to space before it blew. He could've gotten the hole from debris shooting through him." 

She shook her head. "It could've been possible, but unlikely. There would have been an entry wound through his back. Also, if he were exposed to space, there would be more damage to his rib cage as his lungs exploded. But they were relatively unharmed... he had no air in his lungs to expand them. We could've examined the shuttle, but someone hastily blew it up." 

"Oops. Hehe." He put a hand behind his head in embarrassment. 

"Oops," she said, scowling. "Fortunately, we don't need the shuttle. Upon further examination, I noticed a peculiar residue inside Prentice's chest cavity and around the wound." 

He was puzzled, and raised an eyebrow to indicate it. "What kind of residue?" 

"I don't exactly know. But I can tell you one thing... it didn't come from him. The DNA signature is totally wrong." 

Apollo shuddered. "I don't like the sound of that. We have to find out what happened." 

Kellara shook her head. "I don't see how, without the shuttle..." 

"We don't need the shuttle." Seeing her puzzled expression, he added, "I'm asking the ship to sector 5174." 

Now it was her turn to looked shocked. "Are you sure that's wise, given that log entry?" 

"We're going there _because_ of that log entry. We have to find out what happened to the _Gilgamesh_." 

"But what about Mr. Nash?" 

Apollo began pacing. "I haven't forgotten our passenger. But Starfleet told me they were treating that log entry as a type of distress signal. And answering distress signals are a high priority for Starfleet vessels." 

"I know. I just hope it doesn't turn out to be a mistake." 

He looked at her worried expression for a moment. "Well, we'll have three days to think about that. That's how long it'll take us to get there." He turned to leave. "Do whatever else you can here, Doctor. And pray that more won't have to be done." He walked out into Sickbay. Before leaving, he noted that Bruebaker had been released; now Sickbay truly was empty of patients. He only hoped that it would stay that way. 

~ * ~ 

By the time he returned to his quarters, Sam was already there, in bed, seemingly asleep. Since Apollo had no use for the lights - he produced his own comfortable glow - he undressed in the relative dark and slid into bed beside her. She turned and placed her arms around him. "Hi," she whispered. 

"Hi," he whispered back. "I thought you were asleep." He once asked her why they whispered when they were the only two people in the quarters. She had responded that it just felt right. He didn't dispute it. 

"Almost." She snuggled into him. He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair, a motion he could never get tired of doing. "So, do you still think we should be going there?" 

"Starfleet feels it should be handled as a ship in distress." 

They laid there, her face against his chest. Finally, she said, "Maybe some distress signals shouldn't be answered." 

He looked at her serious face, bathed in the soft glow of his eyes. Suddenly she looked very vulnerable. He wanted to just wrap her up in his arms, protect her from the dangers of the galaxy, tell her that everything would be just fine. 

She said all that and more by moving up and gently kissing him. As their kisses grew intense and she moved on top of him, he realized that she wasn't all that vulnerable... but that didn't stop him from loving her any less. After their love had been consummated, they snuggled into each other, and peacefully fell asleep. 


	5. Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter Five

Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter 5

_CHAPTER 5_

The _Highlander_ entered sector 5174, and the system once described by Intelligence reports as hiding a Jem'Hadar staging post. It was at this planetoid where the outpost was located that they found the _Gilgamesh_. She looked to be without power; yet the gravity of the planetoid was so close to nonexistent that the starship's own inertia was enough to keep it locked it orbit around that huge lump of rock. It was about the size of Earth's moon, yet it was shaped irregularly, like an asteroid. The Jem'Hadar base was nestled in a natural pocket, almost like a valley. The ruins of one of their fighters lay not far from the base. 

The _Highlander_ slipped into an orbit parallel to the _Gilgamesh_. From there, all scans were directed toward the ship. Circe started rattling off readings. "No shields, no warp drive, no impulse drive, no weapons... hmmm... Life Support _is_ running, but at a reduced rate, so they _do_ have power. That is the only thing I see up and running, though. Everything else is down." 

Apollo leaned forward in the command chair and slowly stroked his beard. "Scotty, with only Life Support running, and at such a low rate, how long would their emergency power hold out?" 

"With those specifics? Weeks, months... I don't know. Years, I would guess. After all, the _Jenolen_ lasted over 75 years with just the transporters and life support running," Scotty replied. He referred to the ship that enabled him to survive into the 24th century, by locking the transporter's pattern buffer into a continuous diagnostic cycle, and then beaming his pattern into the buffer. If it had completely worked, Commander William Riker and Lt. Commander Geordi LaForge would have found two people instead of just one. 

Apollo nodded, satisfied with Scotty's estimate. "So in all possibility, someone may still be alive on that ship." 

"If there is anyone alive, sensors fail to register them," Circe said. 

"Stranger things have happened." He stood up. "Circe, pick a security team of two and meet me in the transporter room." He started toward the doors. 

"Admiral." Sam's voice stopped him in his tracks. He slowly turned around. "May I remind you of Starfleet regulations pertaining to the disallowance of a ship's commanding officer on away teams." 

He scowled at her. "I don't see why you had to ask my permission to remind me, since you did so anyway." He knew she didn't like this anymore than he did, but they had to go through the song and dance routine anyway, just for the record. "Very well. You have fulfilled your obligation in reminding me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going." 

"Admiral, I must insist you stay here and let me lead the away team." 

"Out of the question. We don't know what happened over there..." 

"_Precisely_ why the commanding officer has no reason unnecessarily endangering himself on this mission." 

His eyes narrowed to slits, his tongue stuck in his cheek. He glared at her like a vulture for a good minute or two. To her credit, she stared right back at him. The rest of the bridge crew watched in complete silence. "You enjoy this, don't you, Captain." 

"Immensely, sir." Her voice betrayed no emotion whatsoever. 

_She's been hanging around me far too long_, he thought. 

_:And if I have anything to do with it, I'd like to hang around you for a good long time to come, too.:_ she shot back at him. 

He took a deep breath, and headed back to his seat. "I want reports every half hour. Is that clear, Captain?" 

"As crystal, sir," she said, moving toward the turbolift and entering with Circe. Again, to her credit, she didn't crack a smile until she was in the turbolift, where if someone were to look closely, just before the doors completely closed, they would see Circe smiling with her as they gave each other a high five. 

Before they had reached the transporter room, Apollo had changed his mind. Instead of reports every half hour, he wanted them to keep an open commlink at all times. And at the slightest sign of trouble, they get out of there. The team was more than happy to comply. Now they materialized on the bridge of the _Gilgamesh_. Bruebaker immediately had his phaser out. Janlet, a Bolian medical officer, had her tricorder out and scanning. Sam glanced around; nodding to the group, they all tapped their combadges. "Racer to _Highlander_. We're aboard." 

"_Acknowledged,_" they heard Apollo say, "_what does it look like over there_?" 

"There's no one on the bridge." She glanced at Circe, who was over by a control panel. After experimentally tapping the dark panel, she shook her head. Sam nodded and continued. "The controls on the bridge are out." She walked over to the turbolift doors. "The doors aren't responding, either." 

"_Understood._" 

Circe had taken out her own tricorder and was now scanning around the bridge. "I detect no signs that a battle had occurred here. The EPS conduits behind the bulkheads are still intact. They are simply not receiving any power." 

"_Circe, see if you can..._" 

_:APOLLO!:_

Circe raised an eyebrow. At first, she didn't understand why the admiral suddenly stopped in midsentence. Then she saw Sam's face. 

_:Apollo, you're still acting as though you're commanding the away mission.:_

She didn't get an answer for a long moment. _:I'm sorry. You're right.:_ "_Captain, do what your team can over there. Of paramount importance is that you _be careful_. Keep me posted. _Highlander_ out._" 

The connection closed, and she let out a breath she'd been holding. She hated to do that to him, but she felt he was micromanaging her, and it undermined her authority. She knew when they returned, and she was alone with him, they were going to have a discussion about it. 

Meanwhile, the away team had returned to their investigation. Sam opened a panel next to the turbolift doors and removed a manual door operator. She tested it to make sure it still worked - they used their own power source for situations such as this - and clicked it onto the door. Tapping in a code, the door slowly opened. She almost walked onto the turbolift out of habit, before she realized there was no turbolift there. "Whoa! What happened to the lift?" 

Circe held the tricorder into the shaft. "The car is at the bottom of the shaft. It appears the magnetic coupling were shorted out, and the car plummeted to the bottom." 

Sam made a face. "Yeesh. I hope there was no one in there." 

Circe continued. "There were two crew members aboard the car. They are both most likely dead now." 

Sam made another face. "Gee, thanks for painting the picture for me," she said sarcastically. 

Circe smirked. "There is something else down there. I'm having a hard time getting a fix on it, though." 

"We'll worry about it later," Sam said. "Right now, we have to find a way to the rest of the ship. Bruebaker, check out the Jefferies tube." 

Bruebaker went to the other side of the bridge and popped open an access hatch in the floor. "All clear over here." 

Sam looked over the security officer into the accessway. "Kinda dark in there." She tapped her badge. "Racer to _Highlander_." 

"_Scott here,_" came the reply. 

This surprised Sam a little. A little worried, she asked, "Where's Admiral Racer?" 

She heard a chuckle. "_Not t' worry, lass. The admiral's still here. He's in the Ready Room. Can we help ye with something?_" 

"Could you send us a few lamps, please? We gained access to the rest of the ship, but visibility is limited." 

"_Aye. We'll get them to ye._" 

"Thanks. Racer out." No sooner did she close the link then noticed the telltale sign of a transporter. Four SIMS beacons appeared on the seat next to her. She picked them up and handed one to each person. Attaching hers to her wrist, she activated it, sending a focused beam of bright light ahead of her. The other three followed her example. When they were ready to go, Circe called up a map of the _Gilgamesh_ on her tricorder. Sam nodded. "Let's go." One by one, they lowered themselves into the accessway. 

~ * ~ 

Apollo walked into the holodeck. He had tried to get some rest in the Ready Room, then in his own quarters when that failed. But try as he might, while Sam was on the _Gilgamesh_, he couldn't sleep. So he decided to work off his exhaustion. "Computer," he said, his voice echoing in the empty room, "activate program Shadowfencing." He unclipped his light saber from his belt as a figure materialized before him. He walked up to it, realizing that he could be staring in a mirror. It was an exact replica of Racer save for one feature: the HoloRacer's eyes glowed green instead of blue. He had made that alteration one day when a crewman came looking for him while he was running the program, and didn't know which Racer to talk to. Apollo had tried an actual partner, but he had to hold back too much. This way, he could fight without pulling punches; indeed, he didn't dare pull them. This mirror Racer was exactly that... a complete match of the real Racer's skills. 

The HoloRacer ignited his saber. Like his eyes, it gave off an emerald light. Apollo matched the move with his own sapphire blade. The two stared at each other, saluted with their sabers, and instantly went into a combat stance. 

It was Apollo who made the first move. He swung his saber in front of him, to have it easily deflected by his mirror opponent. Another tentative slash, and another parry to counter the move. Then the HoloRacer seemed to grow impatient, and pressed an attack. The blows moved slowly at first, gaining speed to that of a normal fencing bout. Gradually, the pace quickened. In fifteen minutes, the two blades were blazing through the air, moving at a pace so fast they left extended trails behind them as the ionized particles of air took on the hue of the saber that had cleaved them. They hacked and slashed, blocked and thrusted. 

The moves grew more elaborate, the dodges more graceful. HoloRacer twirled out of the way of Apollo's cross-cut, then weaved in and out, trying to score his own hits. Surprisingly, Apollo actually got an attack through, though all it did was graze his doppelganger's shoulder and singe the fabric on his uniform. He then executed a somersault over the head of HoloRacer to avoid a sweep that would have taken out his legs. Before he landed, and without turning, he brought his blade over and behind his head, positioning the blade parallel to his body so as to block the swipe coming at him from HoloRacer's follow-through. Apollo then attempted a sweep of his own, but HoloRacer nimbly leaped out of the way. 

When he saw that his nemesis didn't land, Apollo gave him a feral grin. "So we're taking this to three dimensions, eh?" He lunged, bringing him up to HoloRacer's level and forcing his foe against a wall. 

"Getting frustrated, are we?" HoloRacer said, as he clubbed Apollo in the back with the pommel of his saber. Apollo fell but didn't hit ground, instead whirling around to glide back up. 

"As though you would know frustration," Apollo growled. 

"Enough to know that you don't have your total concentration in this exercise," his own voice said back at him. "Almost not worth the workout." 

Apollo was about to charge, but then realized he had programmed his shadow to try and goad him. Instead, he forced his breathing into a steady rhythm. He wiped the sweat off his brow and hovered there, taking in his image. 

"Very good," HoloRacer said. He moved forward to continue. 

As he approached though, Apollo said, "Computer, change environment: zero g." Suddenly, his doppelganger shot forward. Apollo spun in place, moving his opponent aside and giving him a boost for good measure by kicking him in the pants. HoloRacer slammed headfirst into the far wall, but he had the presence of mind to deactivate his saber before he hit. 

He slowly turned against the wall, wiping his mouth although there was no blood. "So we're gonna play that way, huh? All right. The kid gloves are off!" Placing his feet behind him, he shot himself toward Apollo. Apollo brought his saber up, but HoloRacer whirled in mid-flight and kicked the saber out of Apollo's hand. Released from his grip, the weapon deactivated and slowly spun off to the side. He used the abilities that his sister had taught him... his protective aura kicked in, flaring brightly, as he rained blow upon blow onto his doppelganger with blinding speed. At first, HoloRacer was pummeled by the punches, as he was unfamiliar to the attacks. But Apollo had programed him to learn any move Apollo used on him, in order to be a true mirror image. Sure enough, it wasn't long before HoloRacer caught up, blocking almost every shot Apollo sent, and even getting a few of his own in. Apollo was definitely sweating now... he had never worked out this intensely before. 

The holodeck doors opened, and Scotty started to walk in. While not much normally, it was enough for Apollo's attention to lapse. HoloRacer got in a few good hits, sending Apollo flying. He hit the wall, bounced off, and landed on his back. In one deft move, HoloRacer leaped, his saber flying toward his hand, igniting as he called it. 

"What in the bloody..." Scotty started. 

HoloRacer had started his downward thrust. "_COMPUTER, FREEZE PROGRAM!!_" Apollo yelled. HoloRacer slowed to a halt. 

Both men were silent, Scotty just standing there with his mouth agape. Apollo was staring at the tip of the green lightsaber... about an inch from his face, HoloRacer's own face frozen in a feral snarl. Apollo held his breath as he slowly moved the hologram up enough with his feet so he could duck under the saber and get to his feet. Apollo noticed Scotty's look. "Report," he said. 

"Ummm..." Scotty shook himself out of it, having difficulty trying to comprehend that Apollo had technically almost run himself through. "We got a transmission from Sam. She said they had found some of the _Gilgamesh's_ crew. She also said you would want to hear it from her yourself." 

Apollo raised an eyebrow. "All right, let's go." He turned to go, then stopped. Returning his attention to his simulacrum, he said, "Computer, resume program." 

HoloRacer continued his downswing, but stopped when he realized his foe was no longer underneath him. As he looked up in confusion, he caught sight of a fist heading straight for his face. As he flew toward the far wall, he yelled, "Cheaterrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" 

When his image hit the far wall, Apollo said, "Computer, end program." HoloRacer and the exercise room disappeared. 

As they walked off the holodeck, Scotty commented, "It's a good thing you have the holodeck safeties, or else you'd have been shishkabobbed." 

Apollo looked to his chief engineer. With his eyebrow raised and a mischievous smirk, he replied, "Safeties?" 


	6. Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter Six

Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter 6

_CHAPTER 6_

The two men entered the bridge. "Away team," Apollo called as he made his way to his chair, "What's your location? What do you have for me?" 

"_Admiral_," Circe said, "_we found some of the crew members on deck four. Not a very welcome sight._" Her voice sounded strained. 

"Commander, are you having problems?" 

"_You'd be having problems too... if you came into a room... where dead people... have been festering... for about a week._" This was from Sam. Her statement was punctuated by coughing. 

"I see," he replied solemnly. "Do you want us to send you some breathing apparatus?" 

"_No no, we'll be fine. Just have to get used to the smell. Actually, I've been exposed to worse. It's just been a while._" 

Apollo smiled grimly. He heard the doors open behind him. As he heard clopping, Kellara said, "Captain, could you describe the cause of death at all?" 

A chuckle came from the other end. "_I don't think it's all that hard to spot. They died just like Prentice did... their chests were blown open from the inside. Circe, get your hand out of there!!_" Sam sounded more than a bit disgusted on her last statement. 

"_Sorry, Captain. I thought I saw something weird._" 

"Weird like what, Commander?" Apollo inquired. 

"_Well... it's like that goo the doctor found in Prentice. Only it... it seems a bit fresher is all._" 

"Could you take a sample of it? I'd like to compare it to..." 

A scream cut Kellara off. "Sam!" Apollo snapped. "What's going on down there!?" 

"_Stand by, we're checking. It sounded like Bruebaker._" Sam sounded like she was running. 

Apollo looked as though he was ready to jump out of his chair and head over to the _Gilgamesh_ that very instant. Kellara's soft hand on his shoulder prevented him. He looked up at her face; the concern in his eyes told him she felt the same way, but the hand on his shoulder told him to have faith in his subordinates, especially since he was married to one of them. He sat back in his seat. 

He didn't have to wait long for an answer. "_It's Bruebaker. He seems to be having some respiratory problems._" 

Even as Apollo was getting up, Kellara showed surprising agility by spinning around and heading into the turbolift. "Transporter room," she said, "beam him directly to Sickbay." 

It didn't take long for them to make it to Kellara's territory. Even still, as they rushed in, two nurses were at Bruebaker's side. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, sounding as though he were trying to cough up a lung. "All right, all right. You're here. You'll be all right," Kellara said, grabbing a tricorder from a tray on her way over to his bed. 

As she scanned him, Apollo said, "What happened over there? Where are the other two?" 

"We're right here," Sam said as she and Circe entered Sickbay. "We were beamed to the transporter room. Stan, what happened to you?" 

He was still coughing, but not as hard now. "I was in another room down the corridor from them. I saw these weird pods on the floor. At first, I thought they were plants... one of them even opened like a flower getting ready to bloom. But then this..." more coughing, "this _thing_ practically flew out of the pod! Before I knew what happened, it stuck to my face. I think one of its... its... legs, or whatever it was, landed in my mouth. It was disgusting, all slimy and everything. Anyway, before I knew it, the thing jumped off my face and skittered away. I tried to chase it, but I couldn't stop choking." 

Circe snorted. "It probably wouldn't have stuck a leg in your mouth if you didn't open it to scream." She smirked. 

Sam smiled too. "He probably bit a piece of it off in reflex. Maybe that's what caused him to gag." 

"You'd scream too, if something just jumped out at you like that!" 

Apollo waved them down. "All right, knock it off. Doctor, prognosis?" 

She finished scanning. "He'll live. I'd actually have to go with Sam's assessment. He might have reflexively taken a chunk out of it; there's some kind of foreign substance in his stomach. But I've scanned it; if it was toxic to him, it would've shown up. I think he'll be all right." 

Apollo nodded solemnly. Then he looked at Bruebaker, and smiled. Patting him on the shoulder, he said, "Next time," he winked, "keep your mouth shut." 

Bruebaker looked chastened at first, then smiled. "I'll try to remember that. Hey Doc, I still don't feel too well." 

She checked him again, then filled a hypospray and injected him in the neck, "This should help your nausea. I think you should take a couple of days off, get some rest." Apollo nodded his agreement. 

"Thanks, Doc." He hopped off the bed and left Sickbay. 

Sam turned to her husband. "We still have a lot to look for over there. Permission to return and resume the search." 

"Granted on one condition..." he said. He knew she thought he was going to tell her he was going with them, and silenced her protest with a gesture. "_You_... go over there wearing environmental suits. That way, you'll be better protected from... unexpected circumstances." 

"I think we can live with that," Sam replied. 

"You'd better. It's either that or I go with you," Apollo said. 

The tone he used didn't allow Sam to know whether or not he was serious, so she said, "Okay, we'll wear the suits." 

"And _no_ taking them off as soon as you're over there or at the first sign of inconvenience." As soon as he said that, another memory flash hit Apollo. This one was of a time in his childhood. He and his sister would prepare for school. Their mother told them to wear their boots during the winter. They would fuss and they would whine, and eventually they would put their boots on and go to school. But no sooner were they a block away from home, then they would sit down in the cold, wet snow, take off their boots, reach in their backpacks and pull out their normal shoes, which they had secreted away for just such a reason. After putting their shoes on, they would run through the snow, laughing all the way to school. Apollo chuckled. He also remembered they caught many an illness that way. 

"Admiral?" Sam asked. "Something funny?" 

He smiled at her, and showed her the memory through their bond. She gave him a "naughty boy" look. Kellara and Circe looked at each other, then rolled their eyes at the couple. 

Twenty minutes later, Apollo was back on the bridge, and the away team was back aboard the _Gilgamesh_. This time Xanax was with them. "_We're back in the room where we had found Bruebaker. Something odd. Those pods Brue described... when we were here before, only the one was open. They all are now._" 

"Any critters nearby?" Apollo asked. 

"_Not that we can see... hang on._" There was silence for a minute. "_Circe found one. It appears to be dead. We're having it beamed to Sickbay so Kellara can take a look at it._" 

"All right. Doctor?" 

"_I heard, Admiral. Receiving it now. I have it behind a class 5 forcefield, just in case._" 

"Understood. Let me know..." 

"_GEEZ-um!!_" 

Apollo's head jerked up. "What!? Sam! Circe! What happened?!?" 

He heard heavy breathing on the other end. "_It's... it's okay. One of those damn things came jumping out at me. Circe got it with a phaser blast._" Apollo exhaled the breath he was holding and, realizing he had jumped to his feet, sat back down. "_Guess you could call it a crispy critter now._" 

He could tell she was smiling. "Very funny. Be _very_ careful there, Captain. You've already established there's alien life there." 

"_Understood. Our next stop will be the auxiliary bridge._" Sam's breathing slowed to an even rate. The team remained mostly silent along their journey. Only the occasional mention or instruction broke the silence. 

The waiting was starting to get on Apollo's nerves. He was getting _very_ antsy. Suddenly, he got, _:You know, when I get back, we're going to have to find a way for you to work off all that energy.:_

Apollo's mood brightened. _:Oh? I take it you have some ideas along that route?:_

_:Mmmmm... some.: _Sam's playful tone told him all he needed to know. Unfortunately, it just made him even more fidgety. 

They made it to the auxiliary bridge without a problem. However, they found signs of trouble. "Highlander, you're not going to believe this." 

"_What is it?_" Apollo said. 

Sam studied the entrance to the bridge. "Something's been here; something nasty. The doors to the bridge have been eaten totally through." 

"_Eaten??_" 

"Yeah. As though a really powerful acid was put to work on them." 

"Captain," Xanax said, "someone was in here, too." 

"Ewww... are you sure?" 

"_What did you find, Xanax?_" Apollo said, concern in his voice. 

"It looks as though an officer was in the battle bridge, but whatever ate through the doors got to him, too. There's not much left of him." 

Sam grimaced. "So I guess it's safe to say that there may not be anyone left alive on this ship." 

"Do you think those critters did this?" Circe asked. 

Sam thought about it, then rejected the idea. "If they did this, they probably would have done the same thing to Brue." 

"We don't know that. Maybe Brue scared it off before it did anything." 

Sam shrugged. "In any case, we need to find out what happened to this crew. If we have to search every inch of this ship to find out, we will. Now, let's go. There's nothing else we'll find here." 

~ * ~ 

_Admiral's log, stardate 53433.9:_

_The _Highlander _was diverted from its mission from a distress signal from a shuttlecraft belonging to the _USS Gilgamesh._ After extrapolation, we managed to find the _Steamrunner_-class vessel. She didn't look to be in bad shape, a few hull breaches here and there, but the power levels were low, and the away team I have there have yet to find a single surviving crew member. We've spotted several crab-like creatures skittering around the ship. Doctor Kellara has been unable to find very much about the dead specimen beamed over._

_In the meantime, I decided to visit our prisoner. He seemed none too disappointed by our detour, finding any stay from his sentence a welcome one. Even if he _does_ have to stay in the brig. I have to admit, he seems to be treated better here than he was at the mining colony._

_Captain Racer is on her third day of searching the ship. So far, all she has found are critters, as we have taken to call the crab-like beings, and corpses. In every case, the corpses were found either with holes in their chests, dissolved by some type of acid, or both. They have decided to search back toward Engineering to see if they have any better luck._

The doors to Engineering opened. Sam removed the manual opening device and returned it to her belt. Engineering seemed extremely dark... Sam immediately realized it was because the warp core was shut down. They walked around the large room, tricorders scanning. The further back towards Engineering they had gone, the fewer crew members they spotted, all dead, of course. But they also noticed there weren't as many critters back towards Engineering. 

Sam shivered. "I always thought that when the ship's warp core wasn't running, it seemed... dead, somehow. Gives me the creeps." 

Circe looked uncertain. "What gives _me_ the creeps is... I feel like we're being watched." 

Sam looked at her tricorder. "I'm only getting readings from us." 

"Yeah, well, if you noticed, we couldn't get readings on the critters, either." 

Sam stopped. "You know, you're right. That's very strange. I wonder if the Highlander's found anything out yet." She activated the link to the ship. "Racer to _Highlander_. Have you..." 

Suddenly, a dark shape appeared from above. The next thing Sam knew, she was flying backward until she slammed into a wall behind her. She grunted in pain as her shoulder struck hard. Another of the beasts slammed into Xanax knocking him into the dilithium chamber. His head slammed into the chamber with an audible crack, and the helmet lights winked out. He used his three legs as leverage and pushed the thing away from him. As he put the chamber between himself and the alien, he found it difficult to breathe; the suits respiration equipment must have been damaged. He worked off his helmet and tossed it aside. 

Circe was also confronted by a creature, but her reflexes were quicker. She managed to avoid the blow that would have sent her flying. She kicked the thing in the side of the head, and as the thing was reeling, she rolled, coming up with her phaser in hand. She fired at the creature, and it's upper body exploded, sending greenish ooze everywhere. As it hit her suit, she heard sizzling. Then she heard her personal alarm. "_Warning. Suit integrity compromised_," said the computer voice. 

"Nuts," Circe snapped. Where droplets of the goo struck her helmet's faceplate, she could see holes being eaten in the material. With a whoosh, she realized her suit lost it's air pressure. If she were in vacuum, she would have been dead. Instead, as she saw another ugly thing drop down, she pulled her helmet off and chucked it at the monster. But it just batted it away. They got a good look at what attacked them then. 

The thing was large, about two or three meters. It was covered in a black type of chitinous exoskeleton. The head was large and oblong, with a formidable set of sharp teeth in front. They couldn't see any eyes or other opening on the creature's head, save the jaws. It's arms were long, ending in long hands tipped with sharp talons. The tail was whiplike and looked equally sharp. Sam surmised that this was the ultimate xenophobic race in that everything about them was geared for one thing and one thing only: the eradication of anything they met with. 

Sam managed to get her phaser free, but not before the ugly before her walloped her on the side of the head with such force that it tore her helmet loose. The internal pressure blew it free from her head, and debris from the helmet scratched up the side of her face. Her ears rang with the blow and from the abrupt decompression, stunning her. 

From Circe's standpoint, it's looked as though the alien had torn off Sam's head. "_Captain!_" she screamed and shot at the creature, bisecting it with her phaser. Sam shook her head clear after being shouted at... seeing what had happened to the earlier beast, had scrambled out of the way to avoid getting showered with corrosive. The two managed to stand back to back, as two other creatures started coming down out of the ceiling. "I think now would be the best time to pursue the better part of valor," Circe said. 

"I fully agree," Sam replied. And together, they both turned and ran out of the room. The creatures tried to follow, but Sam managed to use her device to close the door and lock it. They heard the thumping of several bodies slamming into the door from the other side. "That doesn't sound like it'll hold for long," Sam said. She looked at her team, and noticed Xanax was bleeding from his ear. "Xanax, are you all right?" 

"It's just superficial, ma'am," he replied. "I'll be all right, as long as _they_ don't get a hold of me." 

"What should we do," Circe said. "We saw that they have access to the crawlways. Can we have the ship beam us back?" 

Sam shook her head. "Those things destroyed our helmets, and our communicators with them. We're stuck here. I say we put as much distance between us and them as possible." 

"I have to admit, Captain, I like your thinking," Xanax said. 

As they turned and sprinted down the corridor, Circe had an idea. "What about your link with Admiral Racer. Can't you use that?" 

"I've tried. I can't get through to him. Sometimes I wish I were a telepath like he is. I'd have better luck. But I'll keep trying." 

"Just so long as you stay with me enough to keep away from those creeps." 

"Believe me," Sam said, "I don't think that's going to be a problem." 

After several attempts to stay busy, Apollo had just given up and decided to try and get some rest. Kellara had insisted on giving him something to help; he told her he didn't think anything would affect him. She surprised him by telling him that since his trip back from the Delta Quadrant, and the Q's subsequent retooling of his powers, he was more easily scanned than before, and as such she was able to determine a proper sedative. He shrugged but figured it couldn't hurt. 

He tossed and turned for a while, but managed to lapse into a somewhat deep, if fitful sleep. He was being plagued by a particular nightmare. He was in a dark room, with Sam and Circe cowering in a corner; they weren't alone. The reason for their fear was facing off with Apollo. He couldn't see it well; it seemed to be all teeth and shadows. He grappled with it. There was a sharp pain, and he looked down to see the tip of a tail, tinged in blue; that the blue happened to be his blood was coincidental of the fact that this tail was protruding through his chest. 

He managed to grab hold of the things jaws; he could feel the teeth pierce through. But he managed to pry the jaws apart, until they broke away. He felt a searing pain, as though he were being burned. A final thrust, and the thing's neck was broken. They fell to the floor together. He felt cold, fading. He vaguely saw Sam's face, heard the words, "You can't die, dammit!" 

His response sent chills through his spine. "Who wants to live forever?" 

Apollo bolted upright in his bed, drenched in a cold sweat. He had visions before, many times. But never did they hint at his own death. He was actually surprised to find himself shivering, as though the temperature in his quarters dropped several degrees. Apollo decided there was no way he was going to go back to sleep, so he started to get out of bed. That was when the com system went off. "_Dr. Kellara to Admiral Racer_." 

He looked at the ceiling. "Racer here," he answered, still a little groggy, "go ahead." 

"_Sir, I'm sorry to wake you, but we discovered something I think you should see._" 

He grinned slightly. "Actually, Doctor, I had just awakened anyway. I'll be there shortly. Racer out." The link closed, and he went to the closet for a fresh uniform. In a short time, he was out the door and heading for Sickbay. 

As the doors opened, he saw the doctor gesturing him to follow her. She preceded him into the morgue where she kept a body in stasis. At first, he thought it was Prentice, or the body from the shuttle. Until he looked at the face. "My God, that's Bruebaker! What happened to him?" 

Kellara shook her head. "Still trying to figure that out. Although I can tell you one thing. It has a direct connection with the substance we found inside him earlier. I no longer believe that he had somehow bitten a piece off of whatever it was attacked him." 

"Keep looking into it." He tapped his badge. "Racer to bridge. Any contact with Captain Racer and the away team?" 

"_No sir. They've been overdue for almost half an hour now._" 

He looked at Kellara. "I don't like the sound of that. You would think they would check in." 

Kellara nodded in acknowledgment. "And even if for some reason their communicators were out, Sam would try and contact you." 

Apollo did a facefault. "D'oh! She wanted so much for me to stop micro-managing her, I raised my mental shields so I could give her some peace." He instantly brought his shields back down to their normal levels. 

No sooner did he do that than he caught a mental shout. _:Help us, PLEASE!!:_

Apollo went rigid, and Kellara didn't have to be a genius to know that something was wrong. He tapped his badge again. "Bridge, this is Racer. The away team is in trouble! Do whatever you can to try and get a lock on them and beam them aboard!" 

"_We've been trying to do just that, sir. Something aboard that ship is interfering with our sensors._" 

"Just keep trying! Racer out." He looked at the doctor, worried. 

The concern was evident on her face. She simply said, "Go." 

Apollo understood and nodded. _:Sam, honey, I'm on my way:_ In a flash, he disappeared from Sickbay. 

As they were running, Circe looked over at Sam to make sure she was all right. The captain was grinning, and Circe thought she was getting delirious. 

Sam noticed Circe's look. "The cavalry's coming." 

As soon as she said that, a flash appeared in front of them. The darkness was suddenly chased back by two glowing blue eyes. "Greetings," Apollo said, "May I be of service?" 

"You sure..." Sam started. "_Look out!_" she finished. 

Apollo looked puzzled. He turned around, and froze. 

It was a thing straight from his nightmare. It dropped from the ceiling and pounced toward him. Yet as fast as it was, before it could do anything, Apollo snaked out, grabbed an arm, swung the thing around, and threw it away from them. It struck another of its kind and they both smashed into the far wall. He instantly slammed his badge. "_Highlander_, lock onto my coordinates!" He barked, as the three others scrambled close. "Four to beam up, _now!!_" 

The creatures had recovered, and charged toward the group. They leaped, but only managed to sweep through a stream of fading particles. 

As they appeared on the transporter pad, Sam audibly let out a breath. "That was a close one." They started toward the door, then stopped and turned back toward the pad. Apollo was still standing there, his face pale. "Admiral?" Sam said. "Apollo? Are you all right?" She then could see a fine sheen of sweat on his face. Now she knew the threat they faced on that ship was serious, because she had never, _ever_ seen her husband as terrified as he looked now. She walked slowly back and gently took him by the arm. "C'mon. Let's get you to Sickbay," she said soothingly, and led him out of the transporter room, with the others in tow. 

After everyone was examined, Kellara patched up Xanax and decided the ladies were uninjured. She joined Sam over by the bed on which Apollo was sitting. "Doctor, what could possibly have Apollo so pale with fear? I've _never_ in my whole life ever seen him this scared. I mean, this man drove a starship into annihilation, and I don't think he was as frightened as he is now." 

Kellara scanned the admiral with a tricorder again, but shook her head. "His pulse is racing extremely fast. Blood pressure almost through the roof. If he were human, his heart would've exploded by now. I'd definitely say he's in shock, though." She took a hypospray from a nearby tray and after checking the contents of an ampoule, inserted it into the device. She applied it to his neck, and it softly hissed. Color started returning to his face. "Admiral, how do you feel?" Kellara asked. 

He shook his head vigorously, then looked from Sam to Kellara. "I'm... I'm all right now. Thank you." 

"You had me worried, Apollo," Sam said, "What in God's name happened to you down there." 

He looked straight into Sam's eyes. She felt as though his gaze was boring into her soul. "I Saw my death." 

"_What?_" 

He hopped down from the bed and began to pace. "While you were over there, I tried to get some sleep... and I had a vision; a nightmare," he said with a nervous chuckle. "In it, I perceived my death, at the hands of a shadow with teeth. It was one of those... those things over there that I had seen, though I hadn't realized it until I went over there." He seemed to visibly gather himself. "Did you see anyone alive over there?" 

Sam was caught off guard by his sudden return to normal. It took her a moment to answer the question. "Ah... no... not that we had seen." 

He looked at her, nodded once, and then left Sickbay. It happened so fast, Sam only had time to exchange a puzzled glance with Kellara before she found herself running to catch up with him. She just barely managed to get into the turbolift with him before it closed. "Apollo, what are you thinking? What are you going to do?" 

He was silent, though, all the way to the bridge. As soon as they arrived, he looked at the Tactical officer. Circe still had not yet started her shift. "Mr. Bentley, have we downloaded the _Gilgamesh's_ logs?" 

"Yes sir. We just finished a few minutes ago. I need..." 

"Pearson, move us away from the _Gilgamesh_," Apollo said, interrupting Bentley. 

"Aye, sir." A few adjustments, and the _Gilgamesh_ started to recede in the viewscreen. 

"Bentley, arm photon torpedoes and lock onto that ship." 

They looked at him in alarm, but Bentley said, "Y-yes, sir." 

Sam looked very concerned. "Admiral, do you realize what you're doing?" 

He turned to look at her; his eyes were nothing but cold fire. "Yes I do," he said with conviction. He ticked of the distance in his head. When they were far enough away, he said, "All stop. Mr. Bentley... fire torpedoes." There was silence. He turned his cold gaze to his Tactical officer. "_Now._" 

Bentley felt chills down his spine as he sent the commands. Three bright pinpoints of red light streaked from the ship. They struck the _Gilgamesh_ at key points, and she buckled, exploding in a brilliant succession of flashes. All that remained were debris floating around the asteroid. 

Sam moved to stand in front of Apollo. "Admiral, I would probably be one of the last people to tell you this, but I think you were just a little bit hasty. I'm sure if we did it properly, if we _had_ to, we could have eliminated them while keeping the ship in one piece." 

He glared at her. "Captain, those things are living death. You saw what they did to the _Gilgamesh's_ crew, you saw what they could have done to you. How can you stand there and defend them?" 

"Because despite how evil they seemed, they also seemed intelligent. And I'm sure you know Starfleet doesn't just up and destroy intelligent life without first trying to discover its motivations and intentions." 

"It's motivations are to eat a hole into your skull, Captain! It's intentions are to dissolve you in their acidic blood!! What more do you possibly want to _learn_ from them?!!" Apollo stopped, and realized his voice had raised into a shout. Sam was visibly shocked by his tone, as were the rest of his bridge crew. He forced himself to calm down, and instantly regretted his outburst. "I... I'm sorry, Captain. I... I don't know..." 

"_Security to bridge!_" 

Apollo looked to Bentley, whose station had issued the transmission. "Bridge here," he said, "go ahead." 

"_We have an intruder on board!_" the security man yelled. "_Some... kind of _thing_. It dropped down into Nash's cell. It killed him and went back into the ceiling. We turned off the forcefield and went to investigate. It grabbed Rogers and... oh, God... it was horrible..._" 

Apollo was already back in the turbolift, with Sam close behind. "Get a team together. Groups of three or four. Don't ever find yourself alone, you got that?!" To the turbolift, he said, "Deck 12." Then he tapped a control on a padd in the lift. "All hands, this is Admiral Racer. We have an intruder on board. It is _extremely_ dangerous. All non-essential personnel go to an open area of the ship and stay there. No one, I repeat, _no one_ is to be left alone. As long as you're in a group, you _should_ be safe. If you see the intruder, and you'll know what it is when you see it, you are to get as far from it as you possibly can. Racer out." 

The lift stopped and the doors opened. It was only a short run to the Security section. "Bremmel," Apollo said, addressing one of the men there, "where are the casualties?" 

"In Nash's cell, sir," he replied. 

The two Racers walked into Nash's cell. Nash was sitting on the bench, a large hole driven clean through his face and out the back of his head. Rogers' legs were lying on the floor. Apollo judged that his torso was up in the ceiling, as his entrails were hanging partially down in the cell; he had been literally ripped in half. 

"This creature's strong," Apollo commented. 

"And fast too. But how did it get on the ship?" Sam said. 

"I think I have the answer for that," Kellara replied, making her way into the brig. "Remember those crab-like critters you saw on the _Gilgamesh_? It's an egg carrier. It's deposits an embryo into its host and then dies, having fulfilled its purpose. When the creature grows, it takes the shortest route out of the host body, which is usually through the chest cavity." 

"Which explains why the people had their chests opened from the inside," Apollo concluded. "Good Lord! That means..." 

"That means Bruebaker inadvertently brought this thing aboard the _Highlander_." Kellara said. 

"That must have been exactly what happened to the _Gilgamesh._ Someone was implanted with one of these things and made it back aboard," Sam said. "But if that's so, how did they get so infested with them? Do these nasties develop those pods that the critters come from?" 

"They didn't look as though they were designed for that." Apollo replied. "But you _did_ say they seemed intelligent. _How_ intelligent?" When they could only answer with silence, he continued. "I think it's time we look at those logs to see what we're up against. But first, we need to take care of this thing on our ship." He turned to Bremmel. "Am I right in assuming that this creature doesn't appear on sensors?" 

"Not very well, sir, no," the security officer replied. 

Apollo nodded. "Groups of three. Start combing this ship. Equip yourselves with rifles." He glanced at Sam, then said, "I want this thing incapacitated if possible, destroyed if necessary. I'll not lose any more crew members to it, understood?" 

"Yes, _sir!_" Rogers said, and moved off to give his men the orders. 

Apollo turned to Sam. "I want all department heads to meet in the conference room as soon as possible. Let's go over those logs." 


	7. Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter Seven

Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter 7

_CHAPTER 7_

As soon as everyone was in the conference room, Scotty brought the logs up on the viewscreen at the end of the room. 

"_Captain's log, stardate 53315.7... The _Gilgamesh_ has come upon what appears to be an abandoned Dominion outpost. I have notified Starfleet Command, and they want us to have look around. Maybe we can find something that might give us an edge should they ever decide to darken our doorway again._" 

"So they've been here about a month, eh?" Apollo mused, stroking his beard. He motioned for Scotty to play the next log. 

"_Captain's log, stardate 53319.4... We sent an away team down to the outpost to investigate. Although the station appeared abandoned, Commander Stonok reported seeing some signs of habitation. Whatever they are, they don't show up on our scans. I told him to keep looking, but be careful. We never know what booby traps the Dominion could have left behind._" 

Scotty looked a little sorrowful. "It only gets worse from here." 

"_Captain's log, stardate 53321.0... Our away team has been wiped out. Unknown creatures. Incredibly strong, incredibly fast. They don't show up on sensors. Smart buggers, too. We didn't realize a couple of them had impregnated our men, and by the time they were on the ship, those things hatched... burst right out of their chests. I'm haven't sent any more people down there, yet somehow the bastards keep coming up, and we don't know how. Trying to subdue the ones here._

"_Captain's log, supplemental.... My God... those things are intelligent..._" Sam smiled in triumph at Apollo, who gave her a glare, "_...and_ deadly_. They somehow figured out the transporters... started bringing up more of them_." Apollo returned the favor... Sam no longer looked so smug. "_I had to lock myself in the battle bridge after they stormed the main bridge. Three men died before we could make it to the turbolifts, and I found out that turbolift 2 never made it down. Those bastards got in and ripped those people apart._" 

Apollo noticed that the captain's face looked decidedly haggard, as though he had been in a state of terror for so long, his face simply stayed that way, but wearied of maintaining it. The man was definitely was definitely clinging on his last desperate thread of sanity. 

_"If any ship gets this, be warned. Do _not_, I repeat, do _NOT_ board this vessel. If you do, you are putting yourself and your ship in grave danger._" Metal could be heard sizzling and tearing in the background. "_Warn Starfleet of this threat before it's too late!_" 

The log kept running as he turned to face something offscreen. "_You bastards won't get me and my ship without a..._" Then the screen went blank. 

Apollo immediately contacted Security. "I want guards placed in the transporter room. Anything that tries to enter, I want you to shoot first and ask questions later." He closed the link, folded his hands, and made eye contact with every officer at the table. "Comments... speculations?" 

"Could these beasties be some type of trap left behind by the Dominion? A sort of doomsday weapon?" Scotty asked. 

"Their way of thumbing their noses... or whatever... at us?" Circe added. "'You may have won, but we'll have the last laugh?'" 

"It wouldn't be the first time a race has done that," Sam said. Look at where the Doomsday Machines came from. Look at the Promethian booby trap. They were both products of wars that were designed to wipe out the other side regardless of the war's outcome." 

"And it unfortunately proved their undoing as well," Apollo said. He thought silently for a moment. "No, I certainly wouldn't put it past the Dominion to do that to us. Send these creatures into our midst, decimate us some more, soften us up, so that the next time they try to come here, they don't get as much resistance." 

"But they'd have to deal with their own creations," Sam observed. "If these things really did come from the Gamma Quadrant." 

"I'd like to say if they came from the Alpha Quadrant, we'd have heard about them. Yet for as far as we've explored, there's still a great deal we haven't seen yet. As easy as it would be for us to point a finger at the Dominion, I don't think we can credit them for this yet." 

As the meeting carried on, the crew not on shift were actually having a pleasant time in the cargo bays and recreation lounges. Lieutenant Simmons left her friends to take care of some personal business. As she approached the head, she heard someone in there, so she wasn't worried about being alone. As the doors opened though, she shrieked and scampered away as a bloodied head came flying towards her. She saw the creature that had decapitated the poor crewman, and suddenly she didn't have to do any business anymore. 

Then a security guard rushed up behind her. "Over here!" he shouted. He took aim and shot at the creature. But it was fast, and dashed back into the head. The guard waited until two others showed up, then they stormed the room. But by then, all that was left in there was a headless corpse. 

Three other guards were in Transporter Room 3. One lounged on the console and another sat on the platform, while a third paced in the small room. Suddenly, the ceiling caved in, and the monster landed on the pacing guard. But the other two were quick, they had their rifles up and shot the creature. One shot missed; the other struck it dead on, but only staggered it. This gave the third guard time enough to get to his feet and get his rifle positioned. The time, all three shot and struck the creature, hitting it with a sustained blast until finally, it crumpled to the deck. The guard by the controls touched a key on the console. "Reynolds to Bremmel. We've got it. It's in Transporter Room 3." 

The meeting was just breaking up when the com chimed. "_Bremmel to Admiral Racer._" 

"Racer here." 

"_Sir, we caught it trying to break into the transporter room. It took all three of us with our rifles at heavy stun, but we managed to subdue it._" 

Apollo broke into a triumphant grin. "Good job. Since it wants to use the transporter so much, have it beamed to Sickbay and kept in stasis. I'll be right there." 

"_Aye sir. Bremmel out._" 

He looked at his senior staff. "_Now_ we get some answers." They left the conference room, Apollo and Kellara heading for the lift while the rest of them took their stations. When they arrived in Sickbay, a nurse came over to them. 

"Doctor, we have the creature in stasis, and surrounded by a level 10 forcefield," the nurse said. 

"Nothing like overkill, I always say," Apollo commented. 

"With the havoc it caused, I don't think we can afford to take chances," Kellara said. 

"True." 

They reached the chamber the creature was kept in, and were surprised to find it moving. "Nurse, are you sure you have this thing in stasis?" Kellara said. 

"I'm positive I did!" 

Apollo paced around the chamber at a distance, but gradually moved closer. Kellara could clearly tell he was at war with his emotions. Finally, taking a deep breath, he approached the forcefield, until he could feel the hairs of his beard start to tingle with the energy. "Doctor," he said, "release the stasis field." 

Kellara was shocked. "Are you sure that's wise?" 

"No," he said. "Increase the forcefield to level 15." 

She looked at him skeptically, but gave the appropriate commands. The forcefield flared around the chamber while one winked out around the creature. It immediately sprang to its feet in front of Apollo. It pounced, and was promptly knocked backward by the forcefield. Apollo flinched, but stood his ground. The alien pounced again, and again hit the field and bounced back. This time Apollo didn't even budge. 

Finally, it crept toward Apollo and stood there, face to face. He gave it his coldest glare, eyes narrowed to slits, while the thing just stood there as they studied each other. It opened its jaws, saliva dripping from its mouth. Without warning, a second set of jaws shot forth and struck the forcefield. Everyone jumped save Apollo, who had his bearings solidly under him. 

"Fascinating," he said, raising an eyebrow, "a secondary set of jaws, which telescope out at amazing speeds. This must be how Nash met his death." 

"It would... certainly seem consistent," Kellara said. 

Apollo continued staring at the creature. "I can sense its intelligence. It loathes us. It wants so much to tear us to shreds. Well, sorry to disappoint you, pal. Your mission failed." 

It pawed the ground with its feet, but a level 15 forcefield covered the floor as well as the ceiling. It was effectively encased. 

"I wonder if there's some type of hierarchy with this species. _Are_ they some type of soldiers? Do they follow a general, or..." Apollo paused, as an image flashed through his head, "... or a _queen_." 

The creature was visibly agitated. He turned to Kellara. "Doctor, this thing _is_ intelligent! It knows what I'm saying! It was able to make the connection between a general and a queen as types of leadership. And what's more, it's not all that pleased that I learned they follow a queen. Well, guess what, Sharkey. As soon as we find that queen of yours, she'll get what's coming to her." For effect, he sent the image he received, followed by some colorful images of what he planned to do to the queen. 

This enraged the creature. It charged the forcefield, slamming into it again and again and again. Kellara and her staff backed up. Then, amazing as it seemed, the creature actually put all it had into a lunge, and broke through the forcefield with an ear-piercing scream. It tackled Apollo, but the admiral already had his legs up, and he used the creature's momentum to shoot it up and over him. It flew across the room, slamming into the wall. It quickly got up and charged again. This time, Apollo braced himself, and stabbed the creature with his optic blasts. It froze in place, it's head glowing from the barrage. Finally the creature's head exploded, sending flotsam everywhere. Some of it hit Apollo, sending Kellara immediately rushing to his aid. The creature fell to the ground, thrashed about for a moment, then lay still. 

The doctor examined Apollo. It seemed that he was only hit on the side of the chin. She immediately grabbed an acid neutralizer and a cloth. She sprayed the neutralizer in the area of the burn and wiped away the excess. Then she took a dermal regenerator and went to work. To the admiral's credit, he didn't make a sound, though the look on his face told her he was in pain. "Well, serves you right. That was a stupid thing to do." She sighed. "You'll be fine, but that beard is going to look funny with a bald patch on your chin." 

"I can... take care of that. In the meantime, you have an autopsy to perform. I think my own abilities can finish the job." He rubbed his face, still tender and sore. "Let me know what the results are." He turned and walked out of Sickbay. 


	8. Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter Eight

Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter 8

_CHAPTER 8_

After a short stop to his quarters, Apollo headed for the bridge. Once there, Sam automatically relinquished the center chair to him, but as he sat down, she did a double take. Stopping next to his seat, she reached out and felt the smoothness of his now clean-shaven face. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. 

She simply matched it, added a sly grin, and said, "Sorry. Couldn't help myself." Instead of pulling away though, she caressed his chin a moment longer. "I like it." 

He gave her a warm smile and she went to her post. Then he activated the intercom. "All hands, this is Admiral Racer. The intruder has been dealt with. You are now free to return to your normal activities. That is all." After she closed the link, he added. "The creature is dead. Dr. Kellara is now doing an autopsies on the remains. Mr. Pa'arvalis, is there a way we can effectively destroy that outpost on the planetoid?" 

Circe was a little stunned. "Why would you want to do that, sir?" 

"Because that's where the _Gilgamesh_ picked up its fatal problem. I want to solve it, and I'm reasonably sure that we'll find more of those things down there." Sam glared at Apollo... they had this discussion before. Apollo noted her expression. "I just want to have a last resort option. If it comes down to taking them out from a distance, I want to know if we can do it." 

"Ummm..." Circe pored over her instruments. "The answer would have to be no, sir. The material that the planetoid is made of is a natural energy dampener. A maximum torpedo spread using our entire stock would only cause superficial damage, and the outpost runs deeper than we could affect." 

Sam nodded. "Sounds like an ideal place for an outpost. They could have been reasonably assured that they wouldn't be destroyed." 

But Apollo was a bit puzzled. Then why did they leave? It couldn't have been due to the war ending. They could have remained there anyway. He gazed intently at the view of the outpost's entrance on the viewscreen. Sam didn't like the look he developed as a result. Before she could make any objections, he was out of his seat and headed for the turbolift. "I'm heading over there. I want to know what was going on." 

Sam blurted out "Admiral..." but that's as far as she got. 

He turned back to her. "Captain, I don't want to hear about it." 

"At least _take_ a team with you." 

He stopped, and thought about it. Then he nodded. "All right. _Two_ teams. Sam, you and Circe will take four security men and form one team. Xanax and I will take four men and form another. We'll _both_ go down there." 

Sam nodded, evidently satisfied with his judgment. Still, as they all entered the turbolift, she couldn't help but look at him with concern. 

The transporters set the two teams inside the station. All of them were outfitted in EVA suits, although the lights in Apollo's helmet weren't on. His eyes provided adequate enough illumination for them to see his face especially since the light partially reflected off the interior of his helmet. The main reason was that the lights, being that close to his face, somehow affected his night-vision, which he felt important to have. "What is it with them liking dark places?" Sam asked. 

Circe shrugged. "They have no discernible eyes? What need have they for light?" 

Apollo double-checked the charge on his rifle. Sam also noticed he had his lightsaber hanging from his belt, along with tools that the rest of them carried. In addition to the tools and the rifles, they all carried standard phasers. "All right. Sam take your team and head west while we go east. Search for anything you deem to be significant, and at the same time, we'll also complete the _Gilgamesh's_ mission, and try to find out what exactly this outpost was for. Above everything else, _be careful!_ Let's move out." 

They went their separate ways. It wasn't long before Sam's team found evidence of the creatures. They encountered a room full of those strange pods, but they all had opened already. Seeing no reason to waste ammo or time, they continued on. 

Apollo's team had a little better luck. They saw no pods, but a crab-critter pounced from a darkened doorway and hit one of the guards - Jackson, Apollo remembered - on the face. Jackson could see the thing try to insert some kind of proboscis into his mouth, but with his face plate in the way, it failed. He pried it off his face and threw it to the floor. While it lay stunned, he brought his foot down, crushing it. "That's one way to take care of them," he commented. 

Vitters, a guard on Sam's team, gestured them into a room. Circe found a light switch and activated it, bathing the room in a soft fluorescent glow. "This looks like a lab," she said. 

Sam merely nodded. She stepped carefully around a workstation, searching for any signs of life. She heard someone say, "Captain, over here," through her comlink, and looked until she saw Anderson, another guard, gesturing her toward him. She moved to the room until she reached his position. 

"What is it, Lieutenant?" she said, and looked at the floor where he was pointing. There were two Vorta lying on the floor, eyes open, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling. Their chests had been ventilated. "Captain Racer to Admiral Racer." 

"_Go ahead._" 

"We found two Vorta in a laboratory. It appears as though they had creatures in their bellies," she reported. 

"_We found a few Jem'Hadar in similar conditions,_" he confirmed. 

"Looks like we know what happened to at least some of the people here, sir. You think they never escaped?" 

"_That would be a fair assumption. But at least we know there's a finite amount of these creatures. This outpost and the _Gilgamesh_ provided the only means for these things to reproduce._" 

Sam calculated in her head the crew complement of a _Steamrunner_-class vessel, combined with the possible population of the outpost. "That's a hell of a finite number, Admiral. We could find ourselves outnumbered real quick." 

"_All the more reason to stay on our toes. Racer out._" 

Sam drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. They had their work cut out for them. She brought her team together for safety purposes and to share with them the findings of the other team as well as their own. Satisfied that they searched everything they could in there, they moved on. 

~ * ~ 

Apollo's team had almost made it halfway around the station. They found one room containing the rather worse-for-wear corpses of some Jem'Hadar, as well as some of the creatures. Obviously, they didn't go down without a fight. Apollo was instantly glad they were wearing the EVA suits. He didn't want to think about what it smelled like in there. Other than a couple more critters, they didn't find much else. 

Their team met up with Sam's team on the other side of the station. They compared notes, and mutually agreed on the speculation that they probably wouldn't find much on the levels above ground. They tried the lifts, but there was no power going to them. Since their search didn't find the generator rooms on that level, they resigned themselves to searching for it on the lower levels, figuring they may need the lift for future quick getaways. 

They found an access down to the next level and repeated their pattern, with Sam's team going east this time. As with the level above, they didn't find anything much worth reporting. More bodies, a couple more critters, but that was it. The next two levels were similarly uneventful. It was when they reached level 5 that things started to get interesting. 

Apollo had allowed his team to spread out a little, while keeping them in sight of one another. One of the guards walked slowly around some containers to look at one of the rooms. Suddenly, a creature pounced on him and took a swipe at him. Jackson heard a short, strangled cry before seeing his teammate's helmet clatter across the deck; he couldn't help but notice that his teammate's head was still in the helmet. "Hostiles!" he yelled. 

They charged toward the creature, figuring just one didn't stand much chance. Just as they headed around the containers, Apollo's eyes widened considerably. "_Fall back!_" 

Though they didn't understand his order, they immediately complied... it saved their lives. At once, seven of the creatures bounded from the darkness. One reached Jackson, but he spun in place, throwing his attacker off and sending it skidding past him. It never had a chance to return to Jackson, as Xanax shot it with his rifle. The group formed a circle, their backs against each other. "On my command," Apollo said evenly, "fire in an arc directly in front of you." The creatures prowled towards them, teeth practically glowing in the dark. "_Fire!_" 

They swept their rifles side to side, firing in arcs that overlapped the arcs of the person next to them. The creatures didn't stand a chance, and were mowed down. "We did it!" another guard, Falstaff, exclaimed. 

"Savor it," the admiral said, "it may not work again. Remember, these things are intelligent. They learn rather quickly. I doubt they'll give us a chance to gather together again." From a distance, they heard running footsteps. Falstaff and Jackson whirled, but seeing that none of the others moved, as they recognized the sounds as belonging to their own kind, they lowered their weapons. 

Sam and the others came into view. "What happened? We heard weapons fire." 

"You missed the fun. We feel under attack. Seven of the nasty things. We lost Dickson," Apollo said, almost matter-of-factly. 

"Oh, some fun," Sam said sarcastically. "Our side was clear. We were heading toward your position when we heard the commotion." 

Apollo sighed. "We'll find a lot more action from now on." He turned to his group, now less by one. "Let him be a lesson to you," he said sternly, pointing at the occupied helmet on the floor for emphasis. "_Never_ approach a darkened room, not even when you have someone with you! If there's a group of them in there waiting, it won't matter if we're all looking in together; we'll still have bought it." His team looked thoroughly chastised; Xanax looked at the floor while he shifted his weight from one foot to another to another. 

Sam looked at Apollo, concerned. "You think we should stay together from now on?" 

Apollo thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I don't think it will matter if we're together. Besides, it'll give them more than one target. I'd love to bring more men down here, but I don't want to lose anymore." 

"You should at least have someone beam down to replace your lost man." 

"Not feasible. I would surmise that the transporter can't penetrate this far into the outpost. We'd either have to wait until he meets us down here... alone... or we'd have to backtrack, and possibly lose what ground we've gained. If you heard the commotion, there may be a chance they may have, too." He checked the charge on his rifle. "We continue on." 

They found the access to the next level. Almost as soon as they reached the bottom of the Jefferies tube, they were besieged by a trio of the aliens. As their numbers were doubled, they were able to make short work of them, though it undoubtedly alerted more. As they parted, Sam looked at her husband and said, "Be careful. Please." They shared a long look at each other before he nodded and they went their separate ways. 

As expected, the next two levels were significantly more difficult. Not only did they see more of the creatures, but they also noticed more and more unopened pods. They incinerated them so the critters inside wouldn't emerge and try to attack them, regardless of the fact that they wore helmets. In the progression through those two levels, Sam's team lost Anderson and Vitters. Apollo's team was fortunate. Falstaff was injured, but he could still stay with them. Fortunately they had checked with their tricorders upon heading into each level and discovering that there was still an atmosphere. Apparently, these things couldn't survive very well in a vacuum. 

Another thing Apollo had noticed was the appearance of the creatures. They were all basically the same, but there were also some differences. The creature on the ship had a smooth, featureless head. Yet here, a good deal of the creatures seemed to have bony plates on their heads with small horn-like growths coming from the sides. _Almost like a Jem'Hadar_, Apollo thought. To test his theory, he searched for a Jem'Hadar body. When he found one, it confirmed his suspicions: though the tube that supplied the soldier with its needed supply of ketrecel-white was broken, there was no indication that any of it had spilled anywhere. 

_Oh, jeez... _he thought, _if a _Jem'Hadar_ without white was bad enough..._ "Racer to Racer." 

"_Go ahead_." 

"If you see any creatures who remotely look like Jem'Hadar, take _extreme_ care," he warned. "Apparently, these things take on some of the qualities of their host bodies. That means there are creatures down here with Jem'Hadar properties." 

He could sense her horror through the bond. "_If these creatures are as dependent on ketrecel-white as the Jem'Hadar were..._" she said. 

"And if there's no white to be found on this station..." 

"_Holy shit!_" 

"I agree. I don't think I can emphasize enough how much danger we're. On the other hand, they may have inadvertently helped us out some by attacking each other, too. But also remember, there were Vorta down here, too. And there's no reason to believe that none of the ones from the _Gilgamesh_ made it down here." 

"_True. As you said earlier, we'll keep on our toes. Racer out._" 

_I sincerely hope you do, my love_, he thought grimly. "Let's move." He led them onward. 

It was near the access to the next level that they were stopped. A virtual horde of the creatures came pouring from the opening. They all resembled Jem'Hadar, and they all looked _very_ angry. As Apollo had feared, this group was trying to separate his group, and doing a good job of it, too. Another of his men fell to them before they managed to find another of the many labs they found along the way. They somehow found a way to shut the door and keep it closed. With a few minutes' worth of breathing space, they looked around the lab. They found the skull of one of the creatures in a stasis compartment of the lab. A critter was preserved in a liquid in a jar on the counter. 

"They _have_ been studying these things, at least." He walked around, taking everything in. 

"Admiral, over here," Xanax said. Apollo approached him, and he pointed out a machine on the far wall. 

Though it wasn't working, Apollo knew what it was for. "They were producing white here. Why? Did they know that these things would need it, or was it for the Jem'Hadar?" 

"Maybe both," Xanax suggested. "If we could..." 

"Shhh..." Apollo said gesturing him and his teammates quiet. In silence he moved around the room, as though listening intently. He reached a control panel near the door and studied it. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and touched a control. 

A panel, looking like nothing more than part of the wall, slid open, and a very terrified Vorta fell out. "AHHH!! They found me!!" He cowered on the floor for what he thought was his final moments. When nothing happened, he peeked through his hands. The sight of a human glaring down at him with glowing blue eyes wasn't much an improvement over the alternative. Before he knew it, the human picked him up off the floor... _all_ the way off the floor. 

Apollo slammed the Vorta against the counter. "What the hell are you doing here!?" he demanded. 

"I could ask you the same..." the Vorta started to say. It wasn't the smart thing to do, as it only served to get him jarred against the counter again. 

"Don't skirt the issues, Vorta! What were you doing in there?" 

"Well, _that_ was certainly a stupid question. I was _hiding_, of course. Have you seen what's out there? 

"I lost four men _because_ of them! I mean, what are you still doing in the Alpha Quadrant? Your kind should have pulled out long ago!" 

Xanax walked over to them. "Admiral, please don't damage him too greatly. He might provide answers." 

The Vorta's eyes widened. "Admiral?" He looked at his captor. He knew of only one Starfleet admiral, from intelligence reports, who did field work... an admiral with those eyes, no less. "Who would have thought I would be graced with the presence of Admiral Racer..." 

His brown-nosing earned him another impromptu chiropractic session with the counter. "You're weaseling again," Apollo said through clenched teeth, "if you know me from your reports, then you know I _hate_ that sort of thing. Now _talk_! What the hell was going on here? Did you create these things?" 

"I only wish we did," he replied. "If we did, we would have won the war. No, we simply found them, aboard a derelict ship. We made the mistake of bringing them into this station. We had caught one or two of the creatures, and we thought we could turn them into a type of stormtrooper against the Federation." 

"As if your Jem'Hadar weren't bad enough..." Jackson grumbled at him, but Apollo waved him off. 

"Well, not anymore," the Vorta said. "Not since these things have used them as hosts. They're much worse now." 

"We figured as much," Apollo commented, "since any Jem'Hadar we found were drained of ketrecel-white." He was visibly calming down, since they had a common enemy. "How long have you been hiding in there?" 

"N-not long. A couple of months." 

"A couple of _months??_" Falstaff said. 

"We don't need much to survive. Vorta can survive for weeks without much food. There is a micro-replicator in there on it's own power source. I thought perhaps if I waited in there long enough, they would die off, and I could roam free." 

Apollo snorted. "Or until you were found by those things, or worse, one of the critters. Then you could see one of the creatures up close and personal, as it exited you through your rib cage." 

The Vorta cringed at the imagery. "Be that as it may, when it seemed to quiet down, I would emerge and continue my testing. I also was trying to synthesize some white, thinking that if some Jem'Hadar _did_ survive, they could use the white... or the creatures could use it and be sated for a while." 

Apollo thought for a moment. "Your plan to just sit here and wait it out may be a futile one. Has it ever occurred to you that they may use their _own kind_ as host bodies for future generations? Hell, they could even be designed for such a thing, allowing the creatures to emerge without killing the host." 

He watched the Vorta's pupils reduce to pinpricks as the horror of that thought sunk in. "Then it would seem as though I have no choice," the Vorta said, gathering himself. "I respectfully request asylum." 

Apollo seemed to genuinely consider the Vorta's request. Then he laughed in the Vorta's face. "What makes you think _we_ are in the position to grant asylum. We could be just as dead as you." 

The Vorta shook his head in disappointment. "But you _do_ have a chance! _You_ are Admiral _Racer_. If anyone can get us out of this, it's you." 

Apollo moved closer, so that his face was mere inches from the Vorta's. "You misunderstand. I'm not trying to get _out_ of this. I'm going further _in_." 

His captive registered genuine shock. "Going further _in??_ What do you hope to accomplish? Do you realize just how many of those things are out there?" 

He was about to respond when his comlink went off. "_Racer to Racer! Please come in!_" 

"Go ahead, Captain." 

"_We could _really_ use your help here. Where are you??_" 

"We're in a lab. We found a Vorta, who gave us some interesting info about our hosts. How are you doing?" 

"_Not good_," came Sam's reply, fear evident in her voice. "_We're down to just Circe and myself, and we're pretty much pinned down. We've kept them from advancing, but we're not going anywhere, either._" 

His face hardened, cursing himself for lounging around there while his crew members, his _wife_, especially, was in danger. He turned back to the Vorta. "Get this straight... I _know_ there's a queen here. I intend to take it out. Any info you can give me is welcome." 

The Vorta shook his head. "I..." 

Before he could get anything out, the door chose that moment to collapse inward, revealing the slathering jaws of three beasts. Without a second thought, yet with shocked looks from his men, Apollo unholstered his phaser pistol and tossed it to the Vorta. He bobbled it for a moment before getting a firm grip on it. "I'm assuming you know how to use it. How many more levels do we have to go." 

"Just the one below us." 

He nodded. "Sam, are you still on our level?" 

"_No, we managed to make it to the next one._" 

That statement filled Apollo with dread... if they haven't seen the queen yet, and there's only one level left... "Stay there, Sam. We're coming." He closed the link, and noticed that during his conversation that his men were doing a good job at dispatching the creatures as soon as they showed their ugly faces in the door. "Jackson, Falstaff, stay with the Vorta and try to make your way back to the ship. Xanax and I will try to reach Captain Racer and Commander Pa'arvalis." 

"Sir, are you sure that's wise?" Falstaff said, "splitting us up like this? Why can't the Vorta go back into his hiding place?" 

"Because they've seen him. They know he's here. They'll stop at nothing until they get him." As if to emphasize his words, two more uglies peeked in, and promptly got their faces shot off. "Let's go Xanax." As the Edoan came up to Apollo, the admiral turned and said to the other two, "Remember, your primary goal now is to get him out. If the above levels remained clear, then as soon as you get up there, you should have no problem getting back to the ship." 

They nodded back to him, and he turned to Xanax. "Let's go." When they saw a point at which the doorway was clear, they stormed out of the lab. It was fortunate they were moving fast, as two more of them almost landed on them. The two Starfleet officers rolled and fired putting some rather large holes in the creatures' chests. Apollo saw it as poetic justice. They continued to hurry in the direction of the accessway. 


	9. Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter Nine

Mission Into Nightmare: Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9 

They managed to reach the Jefferies tube Sam used. Apollo moved to head down when he heard a cry behind him. He turned to see Xanax held between two of the creatures. "Xanax!" 

"Admiral, help... AHHHHHH!!!" His plea was cut short as one of them tore his middle leg from him. His left arm soon followed. Apollo, numbed, thought rather distractedly, and morbidly, in fact, that it was as though they were pulling the legs off an insect. _He has enough appendages as an insect, anyway._ Apollo shook that thought quickly from his mind. The creatures ran out of limbs. One more good yank, and they tore the rest of Xanax in two. Apollo wasted no more time blowing the two of them away. 

In another bit of poetic justice, Apollo leaped down and landed on another creature, smashing it to the ground. He glanced at Sam and Circe, huddled in a corner behind a container, firing when they had a clear shot. Apollo stuck his rifle into the head of the creature he was standing on, and leapt as he squeezed the trigger. Gore splattered across the floor, but his leap took him clear of it. "Are you two all right?" he shouted. 

"We're fine!" Sam yelled back. "But our weapons are almost out of charge! Where are the others?" 

His leap landed him close to them where he could speak to them for a moment. "Jackson and Falstaff have taken a captive, a Vorta we found, back to the ship. As for the others..." he shrugged. 

"Great," Circe said. The snap of a creature's jaws drove the women back further into the corner and Apollo off to the side. The creature's secondary set of jaws shot out and clamped onto the end of Apollo's rifle as he pulled the trigger. He rolled away to avoid the acid. He aimed his rifle at more aliens, and noticed that the acid from the last one at away the front half of the barrel, rendering the weapon useless. As he stood, he was suddenly paralyzed. 

"Apollo!" Sam said. "What's wrong?" 

It was just like his dream. Sam and Circe huddled off to one side, and he was all alone against this monsters. He started to pale again. He heard shouts, but they sounded very far away. His body seemed wracked with fear as they bore down upon him. Suddenly, a strange calm came over him, and his shaking subsided. He remembered what he had said in the vision. _Who wants to live forever?_ And he understood. He looked to Sam and Circe, and they grew even more frightened by the look on his face. If this was to end in his death, then at least he would die allowing them to get away. 

He leapt to take on the closest one, when what shouldn't have been unexpected, but was, happened. His aura flared into being, disintegrating his EVA suit, and he felt a familiar cylinder place itself in his hand. He looked at it and somehow understood. Depressing the stud, a brilliant sapphire blade sprang into being. As his leap carried him forward, he brought his lightsaber up. The momentum allowed him to carve through the creature, while his aura protected him from the acid. 

He touched the ground and immediately moved aside, as the second creature dove and plowed into the floor where he used to be. Swinging his blade around, he neatly decapitated the beast. The whole time, Apollo was barely aware of his actions... it was as though the sword was doing all the work. He felt remarkably at peace. There was no anger or hatred for these things... he just knew they had to be destroyed to ensure his people's survival. 

Apollo whirled and spun in a graceful dance. Each time an alien got too close, it was dispatched with an intricate move. Sam and Circe, for the most part, sat there. They couldn't do much more... there weapons were out of energy. Why Apollo hadn't done any of this before was completely oblivious to Sam, though now that she thought of it, he hadn't used his aura since he returned from his little journey. There were plenty of chances, but he simply used other means. Now, though, he moved as though it were born to him. 

Suddenly it was quiet, with the hum of the lightsaber being the only sound in the darkness. Apollo was kneeling, his saber thrust behind him. He deactivated the weapon and stood. The two women moved to him. "My God, Apollo. You had us worried for a minute there." 

Apollo shook his head, as though to clear the cobwebs, and looked at them, a little dazed. "Huh?" 

"Well, the way you were just standing there, we thought you had forgotten you had your lightsaber. Good thing you remembered." 

He looked confused. "What are you talking about? Of course I had my lightsaber. What does that have to do with..." 

Sam and Circe looked at each other, then at the admiral. "Uhhh... Apollo. Are you all right?" Out of a flash of insight, Sam added, "What... is the last thing you remember?" 

Apollo thought for a moment. "I... was standing in front of these things closing in on me. I had this very real feeling that I was about to die, and then this overwhelming calm fell over me. Next thing I know, you two are here talking to me." The incredulous look told Apollo something more had occurred. "Sam, did you feel anything through the bond?" 

She thought for a moment. "Well, I felt your fear, and the certainty that you were ready to die. Then..." she looked puzzled, searching for the words, "it's hard to explain. Do... do you know how you felt when you were standing on that mountaintop, gazing at the landscape, with the sun shining on you." 

"Yeah." 

"Well... it was like that... only more focused... somehow." She shook her head, exasperated. "I don't know how else to describe..." she trailed off. 

Apollo looked at her expression. Her pupils had narrowed to pinpricks. He saw that look in the Vorta's face when he scared the little twerp senseless. But he doesn't scare Sam. And besides, she wasn't looking _at_ him, but behind him... 

He slowly turned around. There, approaching them from the darkness, was the biggest, baddest, _ugliest_ of the creatures that he had ever seen. 

The queen. 

"Sam... Circe..." he said softly, evenly, never taking his eyes off the thing, "go. Get to the access. Get out of here, now." 

They slowly edged away from Apollo. He brought his arm up to activate his saber. Then the queen whipped her tail around. It slammed into Apollo, driving him into the wall with a loud thud. His saber was jarred from his grip and it skittered off into the darkness. 

Sam and Circe took the opportunity when the queen had its full attention on Apollo. They sprinted for the access. The queen turned to them and did something they hadn't heard the other creatures do. She roared. 

Loudly. 

The sound drove icicles up Sam's and Circe's spines, and almost paralyzed them with fear. As it was, it took a significant effort for them to get their hands to work enough to find the handholds necessary to pull themselves up. The queen lumbered towards them, her jaws slathered in acidic drool. She almost reached them when she stopped short. She turned to see what was holding up her progress. 

A very angry humanoid had a hold of her tail. He was using the dead bodies of her children as leverage, and keeping her from reaching her other prey. She bellowed out another roar, but Apollo held fast. When Sam and Circe were almost at the top, they stopped and looked back. The queen had stopped chasing them, but she instead wrapped her tail around Apollo, lifting him up towards her face. The anguish he displayed told them her grip wasn't a loose one, either. 

As she brought him to her face, she started to open her jaws. At the same time, the tip of her tail was coming around, preparing to skewer him. "_APOLLOOOOOOOOOO!!_" yelled Sam. 

A flash of blue appeared in his hand. His lightsaber had leapt up to him, igniting as it traveled. He swung behind him, and it lopped off the end of her tail as it was about to strike. She shrieked in pain. To make matters worse for her, he added power to his aura, her tail, and acid from the end of her tail, sizzled where it came in contact with him. She opened her jaws again, the smaller set jabbing towards him. With a flick of his saber, he severed those, too. Again she shrieked. 

Apollo wasn't letting up now. He concentrated, and his aura grew to a point where her tail simply couldn't hold him, and it fell off. It brightened to a point where it illuminated the whole chamber, bathed it in blue light. Though she wasn't holding him anymore, but he remained in place, hovering in midair in front of her face. He brought his saber up in front of his face. 

"Go back to hell where you belong, bitch!" he snapped. Flying forward, he sliced into her, and kept going. The room went dark again, as though he were swallowed up by her. Then in a spectacular show, she exploded, revealing Apollo inside an aura even brighter than before. He held his lightsaber with both hands as he stared intently around the beam in front of him. 

Sam really looked at Apollo, and saw a completely blank look on his face. She searched through the bond, but couldn't reach him at all. With a little urging from Circe, Sam climbed the rest of the way, and they emerged from the tube. Soon after, Apollo levitated up out of the tube. As soon as he emerged, his aura quickly dimmed to nothing, and he collapsed, his saber once again extinguishing and rolling from his grasp. 

Sam rushed over to him and cradled him in her arms. He slowly opened his eyes. "Did... did we win?" he said in a very tired voice. 

She smiled, though there were tears in her eyes. "Yeah. We won." She was visibly worried. "You... you're not dying on me now, are you?" 

He chuckled, though it seemed to take some effort. "Heh... hell, no. I plan to live forever." 

~ * ~ 

They allowed Apollo to rest long enough for him to be sure he could make it back. As they helped him back to the lab, they noticed everything there was either destroyed or missing. "Jackson and Falstaff must have taken what they felt the Federation could study," Apollo said. He noticed that three things most noticeably missing were the ketrecel-white machine, the critter in the jar, and the creature's head in stasis. 

Apollo wearily tapped his combadge. "Racer to Jackson." 

"_Jackson here, sir. I take it since I'm hearing from you that you accomplished what you set out to do?_" 

He chuckled. "That's affirmative, Lieutenant. Where are you?" 

"_I'm at the beamdown point. Falstaff took the Vorta back to the ship. I elected to remain her and wait for you._" 

"And... what if I didn't return?" 

"_Well, sir..._" he hesitated, "_if I didn't see you, the captain, or the commander within the next fifteen minutes, or I saw those big black uglies coming toward me, I would've beamed back up and sent back a timed antimatter charge. If that wouldn't have taken care of these things, nothing would have. I'm just glad I didn't have to use that option._" 

"So are we. We're on our way back. Give us a few minutes." 

~ * ~ 

_Captain's log, stardate 53430.2:_

_We have returned to the _Highlander,_ successful in our mission to prevent the predatory creatures from being able to spread through the galaxy. Starfleet Command has given us all pats on the back for a job well done. Admiral Racer himself has given commendations to those crew members, both living and dead, directly responsible for the mission's success._

_After a short stop to Sickbay, Dr. Kellara has prescribed a full day of rest for the admiral. It seems his actions on the outpost have severely exhausted him. We are still not completely certain exactly _what_ he did, but it is his intention to investigate into the matter. Admiral promised Dr. Kellara that he would rest after letters to next of kin were written. After all these years, Admiral Racer has not given up his honorable tradition of ensuring that real letters, on _real_ paper, are hand-delivered to the families who have lost their loved ones._

_We are currently on our way to Starbase 47, but instead of bringing with us a prisoner from a mining colony, we have a Vorta. Although he had requested asylum aboard our vessel, the threat from which he requested it has been neutralized. He will most likely be tried for war crimes against the peoples of the Alpha Quadrant._

Apollo read a copy of the log on a padd Sam had given him. He smiled, and nodded his approval. Kellara and Scotty had gathered around his bed to discuss remaining matters with him. 

"If you truly have to, Scotty, by all means, take the warp drive off line. We can travel on impulse for a while... we're not destined to be anywhere soon," Apollo said, propped up on his elbows in bed. 

Sam scowled at him. "Will you look at him?" she said to Kellara, "He's supposed to be resting, and he's _still_ giving orders." 

Kellara shook her head. "Sam, it's well known that starship commanders and ship's physicians will always lock horns on medical issues, like routine checkups and orders for _required rest_." She mock-glared at Apollo for the end of her statement. 

Apollo shrugged. "Well, how am I supposed to get any sleep when you all are in here?" He smiled mischievously. 

Kellara looked at Scotty. "Well? You got what you came for. What are you still doing here? Get back to your engines!" 

Scotty raised his hands in surrender. "Aye, I'm goin', I'm goin." He smiled as he walked out of Apollo's quarters. 

Kellara then turned on Sam. "And _you_, young lady. Don't spend too much time here. With him in bed, you have a ship to run. I'll not have you bothering my patient." 

Sam stood her ground. "If he's your patient, then why isn't he in Sickbay?" As Kellara had no answer for that, Sam added, "For that matter, why aren't _you_ in Sickbay? You _do_ have patients to tend to." 

Kellara gave Sam a wise smile and started backing out. She pointed at the captain and said, "Remember, not long." When she reached the main room where she could maneuver, she turned and trotted out. 

Sam then turned her gaze to her husband, who smiled at her softly. She gently placed her hand on his forehand and firmly pressed until he got off his elbows and laid back in bed. He took her arms and brought her down with him, where he could kiss her. She kept the kiss short, though. "I have to go to the bridge." 

"Yes, you do," he answered between kisses. "Go play Captain." 

"Play?" She got up, and he swatted her backside. "Don't get me started, mister. I won't make it back to the bridge, and you won't get your sleep." 

He chuckled. "_Go._ Before I'm tempted further." 

She smiled, blew him another kiss. "G'Night." As she left the quarters, she said, "Computer, lights out." 

The doors closed, and it was just the soft glow emanating from Apollo's eyes that lit a small area at the head of the bed. He folded his arms behind his head. He wanted to sleep, but he kept trying to figure out what exactly happened to him on the outpost. _Ah well, plenty of time to figure it out_. He yawned, suddenly realizing how tired he was. He turned to his side, placed one hand under his head and the other under the pillow. Giving a contented sigh, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. 


End file.
